A Change In Me
by disneylove89
Summary: Belle is saved from the wolves by the Beast, but is injured and becomes ill as a result. Because of this, though, Belle is unknowingly able to find the chink in the Beast's hard heart and begin their odd relationship. A larger look at Belle and the Beast's lives with expanded movie scenes and original chapters beginning from just after the wolf chase and past the movie's end.
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

**I don't own Beauty and the Beast. . .unfortunately!**

"If you hold still it wouldn't hurt as much!" Belle exclaimed angrily. The Beast had just saved her from an entire pack of wolves in the forest and she was grateful to him, but his temper was out of control.

"If you hadn't run away, this wouldn't have happened," the Beast retorted, no longer yelling but the anger still clear in his tone.

"Well if you hadn't frightened me I wouldn't have run away!" she shot right back. The castle's servants were cowering behind a table to Belle's right; clearly none have them had ever argued with their master before. It was about time someone had.

"Well you shouldn't have been in the West Wing!"

"Well you should learn to control your temper!" The Beast had nothing to say in response and Belle inwardly smiled. He _knew_ he had a horrible temper and by pointing it out, she had won the argument. "Now hold still," she continued, her voice softening. "This might sting a little." She brought the warm cloth once again to the wound on his arm. One of the wolves had dragged their claws against the Beast's hide and left four long scratches on the Beast's arm. The Beast flinched as the cloth touched his wound, but he did not shout at her again. A warmth grew inside Belle as she realized he was trying to keep his temper under control for her.

"By the way," she offered as she cleaned his wound. "Thank you for saving my life." She watched as the Beast's expression changed from one of pain to shock. He turned his head to look at her and for the first time Belle noticed how kind his deep blue eyes had become.

"You're welcome," he said simply, his rumbling voice as gentle as his eyes. Belle said nothing more as she finished cleaning and dressed the Beast's wounds.

"There now," she sighed when she was finished. "Keep those bandages clean, all right? You should get some rest," she added, avoiding his gaze. The sudden kindness that had entered his eyes had unnerved her slightly and she was unwilling to see him look at her so.

"Thank you," he replied and Belle could not help but look at him in surprise; it was the first time the Beast had ever thanked her for anything and, based on how the object-servants slowly emerged from hiding, it was a shock to them as well. The Beast paused only another moment before rising from his chair by the fire and disappearing through the door into the shadows of the hallway. Belle sighed and collapsed onto one arm, suddenly exhausted by the emotional strain she had just undergone.

"Well done, ma cherie!" Lumiere exclaimed. "I cannot believe the master has actually listened to you!"

"That's more than he's done with any of us," Cogsworth said grumpily. "Lord knows we've all _tried_ to get him to rest after he has been hurt."

"This has happened before?" Belle exclaimed, horrified at the thought that the Beast had been wounded so before.

"Oui, mademoiselle," Lumiere sighed. "When he was younger mostly, the master would go and hunt. We feared that the Beast within him would take over if he continued, and when he was wounded trying to take on a bear, we all begged him to stop his foolishness."

"A _bear_?" Belle was shocked, but after seeing his strength warding off an entire pack of wolves she could imagine the Beast would be a formidable enemy for even a bear. Still pondering the Beast's past, she stood to return to her own room but a pain shot through her leg and sent her collapsing back to the floor.

"Belle!" the servants exclaimed anxiously and crowded around her.

"Belle are you all right?" Mrs. Potts asked worriedly.

"I. . .I'm not sure," she confessed, suddenly remembering the wolf that the Beast had torn off her the moment he arrived. The animal had begun to pounce on her and, though the Beast ripped it away before it could bite Belle, the animal's claw had caught her thigh and left a great gash there. The tear in her dress was relatively small, but she had to cover the blood that started to seep through her dress with an extra cloth while she tended to the Beast. She knew that if she explained what had happened, the Beast would be angry with himself and most likely go into one of his bouts of rage. It really hadn't hurt all that much at the time, but she supposed it was the adrenaline from both the attack and the argument with the Beast that kept the pain at bay.

As she revealed the blood that stained her dress, the servants gasped. "All right dearies, let's give Belle some privacy," Mrs. Potts requested, shooing out the male servants before asking to see Belle's wound. Belle lifted her dress to reveal the wound just above her knee. Unlike the Beast's wound, hers was still bleeding slightly. Belle dismayed when she found it had left a stain on the carpet, but Mrs. Potts quickly consoled her.

"Let's get you cleaned up," the kindly teapot insisted. "We've become quite skilled at removing blood from fabric after the master's habits, so don't you worry about that. I'm afraid this might need stitches, however." Belle could see that the teapot was dismayed at the fact that she could do nothing to help her, having no hands. Few of the castle's servants had hands, now that Belle thought about it. Lumiere and Cogsworth at least had arms, but not the dexterity of fingers that was needed for sewing stitches.

"I can do it myself," Belle insisted, though she was afraid of tying up the wound herself. She had done some minor healing for her father after his many accidents in his workroom, but it was quite another thing to take a needle to her own wounds.

"You are so brave," Mrs. Potts praised as Belle picked up the kit they had brought for the Beast, but had not needed to use. With a deep breath, Belle began her work, careful not to flinch when the needle poked through her skin. When she was done, Belle's hands were bloody and she felt faint. She rested her back on the chair the Beast had left empty as she sat on the floor. Mrs. Potts brought her a washcloth and some tea, but when Belle sipped it, she suspected there was something stronger mixed into the drink.

"To give you strength enough to return to your room," Mrs. Potts explained when Belle looked questioningly at her. "I assumed you did not want to call the master's attention to your wound."

"Thank you, no," Belle said, grateful for her thoughtfulness. Using the new, small strength the drink had provided for her, Belle pushed herself into a standing position. Her leg throbbed with hot pain, but she did her best to remain upright.

"I'll have the others clean up here while I go ahead and see that the coast is clear," Mrs. Potts offered and hopped ahead. Belle smiled again at Mrs. Potts' understanding and limped towards the door after her. The stairs were the hardest to get past; Belle had to take them one at a time like a small child just learning how to climb. Fortunately, once Belle had reached the top, it was only a short walk to her room. Her strength was quickly leaving her and she just made it to the bed before collapsing onto it.

"Oh dear!" Madame Armoire exclaimed loudly as Belle entered the room. "Belle, dear, what on earth has happened?"

"It's all right," Belle kindly shushed the wardrobe. "I was attacked by a pack of wolves. The Beast saved me, but I wounded my leg. He doesn't know, so please don't tell anyone." Belle doubted that the wardrobe would keep her secret, but she was too weary to be concerned about that now.

"Of course, of course!" Madame Armoire agreed. "Here, put on your nightdress and I'll see that your dress is washed and mended." Slowly, though she ached from her hard ride through the forest and the sharp pain in her leg that refused to leave, Belle did as the wardrobe suggested. She collapsed gratefully onto the pillows of her bed and fell asleep in moments, her dreams altering between the terror of wolves and the warmth of the Beast's eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

"Belle? Belle, dear it's time to wake up." Belle heard Mrs. Potts voice coax her out of her dreams. "You must eat something, dear," Mrs. Potts said when Belle opened her eyes. Belle nodded obediently and went to sit up, but found that her arms did not support her weight. As she unexpectedly collapsed back to her pillows, her wounded leg was jolted and sent a white hot pain searing up it. Belle did her best not to scream, but she let out a sharp gasp of pain.

"What is it?" Mrs. Potts demanded.

"It's nothing," Belle dismissed her worried looks and took a deep breath. Summoning her strength, determined not to worry Mrs. Potts more than she already had, Belle reached for the tray of food that waited for her. She did not try to lift the tray, only picked a piece of toast and nibbled it obediently. When she had eaten half of it, she felt her stomach begin to churn unpleasantly. A sip of water helped calm it and she lay back down, doing her best not to groan.

"I'll tell the master you're still resting," Mrs. Potts offered.

"Is he all right?" Belle asked quickly, worried that his wounds might be hurting as terribly as her own.

"He's fine, dear," Mrs. Potts reassured her. "He's worried about you, though he won't admit it. And you're worried about him, too, aren't you?" Belle smiled, but said nothing. Mrs. Potts was far too perceptive for Belle to try and insist her concern for the Beast wasn't real. "Rest now. I'll be back again later with lunch."

"Thank you," Belle said as Mrs. Potts retreated to the hallway.

"That Mrs. Potts is so kind," Madame Armoire commented, but Belle could not respond, asleep before the wardrobe had barely finished her sentence.

* * *

Beast's POV

"Is Belle all right?" the Beast demanded gruffly as Mrs. Potts hopped down the hall. He had taken to lurking in the hall near Belle's bedroom, not daring to go near the doors, but finding it hard to stay away.

Mrs. Potts jumped at his voice, clearly not expecting him to be there, but quickly recovered. "She is exhausted, master. But when I woke her to eat something, she wanted to make sure that you were all right."

The Beast hoped that Mrs. Potts was telling the truth, though he tried not to let her see how pleased the news had made him. Belle was concerned about him! Well, it served her right to worry a bit after what she had put him through last night. When he looked in the magic mirror to see Belle pursued by the wolves, his heart jumped into his throat in terror. He was furious at her for entering his room; by trying to touch the enchanted rose that held his fate, she had nearly destroyed all hope, though she could not have known what her actions might have caused. But seeing her life threatened tore away his anger and filled him only with fear at losing her. And when she boldly argued with him last night, the Beast had started gain a bit of respect for her.

"Thank you," the Beast said and continued pacing at the far end of the hall. Those two words were coming easier to him now; he had felt such joy at hearing Belle thank him for saving her and now he was beginning to understand the gravity behind those simple words.

Hours later, the Beast had decided to return to his chamber after seeing far too many servants pass him and smirk, knowing why he was so close to Belle's room. He had not heard anything about Belle since that morning and had begun to worry. Surely Belle would have recovered by now; she was a strong woman and the Beast did not think Belle would tolerate lying in bed all day. What if something was wrong?

As if trying to confirm his suspicion, he strained to hear what might be happening outside his sanctuary. But of course few ever dared to go so close to the West Wing unless there was important business to bring his attention to. But would the servants dare alert him if something was wrong with Belle? So he waited a while longer, pacing the balcony as the stars began to appear in the sky above him. Finally, he could take no more and left his room, intent on seeing Belle although it was so late. Even if she did not want to see him, he would insist, if only to calm his fears. But there was no need to take such forceful actions.

As he strode purposefully down to Belle's room, he came across Mrs. Potts who looked flustered and scared.

"Oh, master thank goodness!" she exclaimed when she saw him. "You must come quickly. Belle—"

"Is something wrong?" he interrupted. Without waiting for an answer he bolted to Belle's door, dropping to all fours to increase his speed. He went to knock on the door, but suddenly he was afraid of what he might find. Before he could decide whether to enter or not, the door opened seemingly of its own accord and he looked down to see Cogsworth.

"M-Master," he stuttered nervously. The Beast stepped over him, having no patience to hear explanations when Belle was so close now. He looked around the room to find her and froze when he saw that she was sprawled on the floor only a few feet from him. It looked as if she had tried to reach the door, one arm lying straight in front of her as she lay on her stomach. The Beast went to her and knelt by her side. She was unconscious, but still breathing.

"What happened?" he demanded, his voice coming out in a low growl.

"She is ill, sire," Lumiere explained from where he stood by Belle's head. "I think she tried to get help, but she wasn't strong enough."

"What about Madame Armoire," the Best demanded, turning on the wardrobe as he spoke. To his surprise, the wardrobe burst into tears.

"I'm s-so s-sorry master!" she wailed. "I-I didn't hear her. I-I'm such a h-heavy sleeper!" Anger grew inside the Beast's chest and he raised a massive paw, fuming with anger for this useless servant. He had never struck a servant before, but she had caused Belle harm by her idiocy. Before he could deliver his blow however, Belle moaned and with that small sound came the knowledge that Belle would hate him for what he was about to do. He lowered his hand shamefully.

"It is not your fault," was all he said and he turned to kneel again by Belle's side. "Tell me what's wrong with her," he asked Lumiere, his voice as calm and soft as he could make it. Lumiere was silent, apparently searching for an explanation when Mrs. Potts came through the door, puffing with her exertion of trying to keep up with the Beast when he bolted to Belle's room.

"She was wounded by one of the wolves last night," the teapot explained as she hopped towards the fallen creature. "She didn't want you to know because she was concerned you would blame yourself for it. But this morning she was too weak to sit up and she barely ate anything, and I suspected that the wound might have been infected. When I came back again this afternoon, she would not wake at all and she had a terrible fever. Since then I have been searching through our stores of medicine for something to help her. She must have become frightened when she woke in the middle of the night and tried to find help." Madame Armoire wailed again at Mrs. Potts words.

"Will she live?" the Beast demanded, embarrassed that his voice sounded so tight with worry and emotion.

"That depends entirely on her," Mrs. Potts said sadly. "The medicines we have here are old and would only make her worse if we tried to use them."

"Well get more," the Beast hissed through his teeth and turned to lift Belle into his arms as Mrs. Potts hopped out of the room presumably to try and follow his orders.

She moaned when he moved her, but still did not wake. He could see beads of sweat on her forehead and her skin was far too warm where it touched his hide as he held her. When he placed her on her bed, he pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, realizing that she was only in her nightgown and it was highly improper for him to see her dressed like that. If he had been human, he would have blushed. When she was comfortable, the Beast took a step back from her bedside but was unsure what to do next. A surprisingly large part of him wanted to stay beside her, but he was afraid of what Belle might say if she woke and saw him there.

"Master," Lumiere started. The Beast had forgotten he was there and whirled to face him, embarrassed that Lumiere had seen him during such a moment. "Perhaps you might sit with the girl while the others and I search for medicines. We would not want her trying to get out of bed again, would we?" The Beast knew that Lumiere was giving him an excuse to stay beside Belle and was angry that the candelabra could read his thoughts so easily, but nevertheless he was grateful for it.

"Very well," he grunted and a chair was summoned. He sat a little ways away from Belle where he might see her if she woke but Belle would not be startled by him being too close. And so he waited, waited for this woman who might be his only hope to wake up.

As he waited he thought back to Mrs. Potts' words. _She didn't want you to know because she was concerned you would blame yourself._ Well, he _did_ blame himself. If he hadn't acted like such a beast she would not have run from him. He watched in his mind's eye as he pulled the lunging wolf off of Belle, but he could not remember seeing it hurt her. He should have been more careful. He was furious that Belle never told him she was wounded; if she had, he would have insisted that they take care of her first. Or would he? His wounds had hurt, too. He couldn't be entirely sure that he would have waited; he certainly _wanted_ to believe he would insist that Belle taken care of first, but was it true?

He came out of his thoughts when Belle groaned and shifted, one pale arm emerging from the covers to dangle over the edge of the bed. After a moment's hesitation, not really knowing what he was doing, he dragged his chair forward a little bit and carefully moved her arm to let it rest on her stomach. He could see the sweat form on her face as the fever raged inside her; there had to be something he could do to help her. As if answering his question, he looked to his right and found a small clean towel on the table by her bed. Dipping it in the bowl of cool water Mrs. Potts had left, he carefully dabbed at the beads of sweat on Belle's forehead. As he did so, he realized how little he knew about this woman, though she had been living in his castle for days now.

He wanted to get to know her more, but he had to stop acting so shamefully. The selfish Prince and the angry beast had to be put aside, he knew, if Belle would ever speak to him after the way he acted last night. He willed himself to do better by this woman; she was so brave to have taken her father's place as prisoner and so stubborn to have argued with him, he who had been so used to everyone simply cowering before him. The least he could do was show her some courtesy. As he bathed her forehead, hoping he was doing some good, Mrs. Potts reentered the room. He dropped the cloth as if it had burned him, embarrassed to be caught doing such things. But Mrs. Potts only smiled.

"That will keep her more comfortable, that will," she said knowingly, nodding to the cloth that landed on the bed. The Beast nodded, but said nothing. "I've come to let you know that there is absolutely nothing in the castle that will do to help Belle. Lumiere and Cogsworth have offered to go into the village and take some medicines while their doctor is sleeping. I don't much like the idea, but it's all we can do. If we write a letter using Witherspoon, there's no telling when the medicine might arrive."

The Beast did not relish the thought of two of his servants sneaking in to the village. If they were caught, there was no telling how those ignorant villagers might react. What he truly wanted to do was go into the village himself, but his bulk did not allow him to move around stealthily enough to avoid notice. No, Lumiere and Cogsworth were Belle's only chance now.

"Very well," he growled. "But tell them to take the carriage to the outskirts, it will be faster that way. And take some gold to leave with the doctor."

"As you wish, master," Mrs. Potts said and left. The Beast sighed as he turned back to Belle, hoping those two bumbling servants would accomplish their task in time. Using the carriage he had sent Belle's father away in would speed their progress, but could Belle hang on long enough for them to return? Belle moaned again and the Beast's hope began to fade.


	3. Chapter 3

It was early the next morning when he was startled awake by a cry of fear. Instantly remembering he was sitting in Belle's room, he opened his eyes prepared to see Belle scrambling to get away from him. Instead, he watched as Belle muttered and turned in her sleep, clearly having a nightmare. She was moving violently, seemingly trying to push something off of her. "No, Gaston," she muttered fearfully. "Get away! Beast, help me!"

The Beast was startled to hear his name mentioned in her dream, and even more astonished that she would call to him for help. Perhaps he _hadn't_ ruined everything by what happened in the West Wing. A warmth spread through his chest that she should call to him, but he was afraid that if she continued moving so violently she would hurt herself further. Mrs. Potts had not gone into detail about Belle's wound, but he was certain thrashing about was not good for her.

"Belle, you're having a dream," he said bluntly, hoping his voice alone was enough to wake her. He was unwilling to touch her, certain that he could do nothing but repulse her after last night, but the nightmare continued to terrify her. Carefully, he took hold of her shoulder in his massive paw and shook her gently. "Belle, wake up," he insisted as gently as he could, hoping that she would not be more frightened of him than the dream. She woke suddenly with a gasp, but when her eyes focused on him she smiled. The Beast could not help but smile in return, careful to keep his sharp teeth hidden behind his lips.

"Beast," she said wearily, her voice no more than a whisper. Her beautiful brown eyes remained half closed, as if she would fall asleep again at any moment.

"You should have told me you were hurt," the Beast growled at her, though this time he did not mean to be unkind.

"I'll be all right," she insisted with another tired smile before falling asleep once again. _What if you won't be_, he despaired silently. He watched over her sleep for another moment before he had to stand. No, standing wasn't enough. He had to pace, but her chamber did not allow enough room for his stride.

"Madam Armoire," he called quietly and turned to face the wardrobe, but she was not there. Quietly he went to a second door in Belle's room that led to the large washroom and heard the wardrobe sobbing inside. He grimaced, unwilling to disturb such a messy display, and instead went into the hall to call for Mrs. Potts.

"Master, what is it?" she asked frantically as she hopped into sight, clearly worried something was wrong.

"Nothing. I—I just have to go for a walk," he growled. "Can you watch over her for a few minutes?"

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Potts said kindly and hopped into Belle's room. Convinced Belle was well looked after, the Beast was able to get away to collect his thoughts.

He actually _cared_ about this girl, he realized as he paced the hall. More than just a tool to break his curse, he realized he was growing fond of her. It wasn't love, at least in the way he understood it, but Belle was slowly finding her way into his heart. He stopped pacing to look out one of the large windows as the day continued to brighten over the forest. It was easy to imagine that Lumiere and Cogsworth were on their way back from the village beyond the trees with the medicine. He could easily check on their progress with the mirror, but he wouldn't dare chance seeing them fail at the task that held all their fates in the balance.

With an impatient snort, he made his way back to Belle's room to find Mrs. Potts pouring liquid into a cup. It didn't smell like tea, but the scent that caught in his nose wasn't offensive either. Usually Chip was the one to serve as Belle's teacup, but Mrs. Potts had chosen one of the few inanimate teacups to use. The Beast briefly wondered why before remembering that the living teacups were all children and the motherly Mrs. Potts would not want them to see Belle in such a state.

"Oh, master I'm glad you're back," Mrs. Potts greeted him as he walked in. "Belle hasn't eaten since yesterday morning and I was hoping you could help me give this to her. It will help keep her strength up until the medicine arrives."

The Beast nodded, but in truth was nervous about helping to take care of Belle. It was one thing to put cool cloths on her forehead when he didn't have to touch her directly, but helping her drink would require lifting her head for her. Careful not to let his hands shake in front of Mrs. Potts, the Beast took the cup from the table and eased his massive hand behind Belle's head. He tried not to notice how soft her hair was as he gently lifted her head and raised the cup to her lips. Belle moaned and turned her head away as the Beast tried to get her to drink. He looked to Mrs. Potts for help.

"Talk to her," she encouraged. "_Gently_. Let her know it's going to help her." Feeling a bit foolish, he cleared his throat.

"Belle?" he began clumsily. "Belle you have to drink this. It will give you strength." He could not imagine his words would have any effect, but like a miracle Belle slowly turned her head back and allowed the Beast to help her drink.

"Well done, master," Mrs. Potts praised quietly as Belle continued to drink from the cup in the Beast's hands. The Beast was startled by the praise and accidentally spilt some of the liquid down Belle's cheek, but Mrs. Potts pretended not to notice.

"What now?" the Beast asked once the cup was empty.

"Now we continue to wait, master," Mrs. Potts responded sorrowfully. "I'll go see if there's any sign of Lumiere and Cogsworth yet," she offered and hopped out of sight. The Beast resumed his vigil over Belle and continued to bathe her feverish face with the cool cloth.


	4. Chapter 4

"Master! Master we have returned!" Lumiere's voice awakened the Beast as he sat in the chair by Belle's bedside. He wasn't aware he had fallen asleep and was angry that he had done such a poor job taking care of Belle. But if Lumiere had come back, that could only mean that they had the medicine with them.

"Do you have it?" he grumbled, keeping his eyes closed, afraid to see that Lumiere and Cogsworth did not have the medicine after all.

"But of course!" Lumiere exclaimed and the Beast dared to open his eyes to see if Lumiere was telling the truth.

"Well, where is it?" he growled when he saw no sign of the medicine. The candelabra trembled, but explained himself.

"Cogsworth and Mrs. Potts are preparing it for Belle now, master. They should be done at any moment!"

"Good," he grunted and turned back to see that Belle was no better than she was that morning. But that would change in mere moments when he could give Belle the medicine she needed, he assured himself. It took longer than he anticipated for Mrs. Potts to arrive with the medicine, but he tried to keep his temper. When they did finally arrive, bouncing along on Mrs. Potts' wheeled tea tray, it took all his strength not to bellow at them for taking so long.

"Here, master give this to her," Mrs. Potts requested, motioning to a simple earthenware cup filled with a foul smelling liquid.

"This will cure her?" he asked, sniffing at it and scowling. It smelt awful and he did not envy Belle for having to drink it.

"Yes," Mrs. Potts confirmed. "It will take time to work, though."

"Why is it in this cup?" he asked, motioning to the less than elegant vessel.

"It would stain the proper cups, master," Mrs. Potts explained and he nodded, knowing the pride Mrs. Potts took in keeping her kitchen tidy. The Beast took the cup from the tray and bent over Belle to help her drink once more. Belle still did not wake, but she flinched away from the cup. The Beast couldn't blame her; the medicine certainly smelt awful.

"This will cure you, Belle," he assured her, remembering what Mrs. Potts said about talking gently to her. "You must drink it to get better." Belle did as she was bid though she coughed as she swallowed the medicine.

"That's enough for now," Mrs. Potts suggested when the cup was half empty. "Let her rest and she can finish that portion in an hour or so." The Beast nodded silently and set the cup aside, again picking up the cloth to gently dab at Belle's still feverish forehead. He knew this was the kind of thing a nursemaid should do, not someone as high born as himself, but even if his servants were human and capable of taking care of Belle he would not let anyone touch her now. He was too involved in her recovery, too anxious to see her wake. So when Mrs. Potts suggested he get some rest, he only shook his head and continued his work.

One by one the servants left and, with Madame Armoire still hiding in the washroom, the Beast was alone with Belle. When he moved to dip the cloth into the bowl of water yet again, something caught his eye on the table behind the bowl. A brown, leather bound book lay on the table, a piece of ribbon stuck between the pages to mark the place where Belle had left off.

The servants had mentioned to him once that Belle enjoyed reading, and he quickly agreed for them to pick out a few books from the library for her, but he had not paid much attention at the time. He picked up the book and struggled to read the title: _Le Morte d'Arthur_. The Beast sighed, supposing Belle would like it if he read to her while she slept, but his last reading lesson was what seemed an eternity ago, making it impossible for him to read for Belle now. Even before the curse, he had scorned his lessons and when he was turned into a Beast he saw no need to even suggest continuing his education.

He put the book down sadly and leaned back in his chair, wondering perhaps if he could tell her a story from his memory. But that was no good, either. Mrs. Potts often told him stories as a boy until he grew too selfish and haughty to listen or care to remember them, but he surprised himself now at the sorrow he felt at their loss.

Silent minutes passed by Belle's side with the Beast hoping the medicine would start working. Mrs. Potts returned to instruct him to give Belle the other half of the dose of medicine and quickly left again. He wondered why the servants were leaving them alone as much as they were; surely Belle's health was more important than the curse just now. The Beast inwardly gasped as he realized what he just thought. Belle's safety was more important than the curse. Perhaps there was some hope for him after all, if only Belle would wake.


	5. Chapter 5

The Beast gave Belle another cupful of medicine later that day as Mrs. Potts instructed and was shooed out afterwards so she and Madame Armoire could change the bandages on Belle's wound. He started to suggest that he could help with that as well, but Mrs. Potts explained that the wound was on her thigh. The Beast's face grew hot and immediately left, realizing how improper that would be.

As soon as Mrs. Potts reemerged into the hall where he waited, the Beast resumed his watch over Belle. He was still a little concerned what Belle might think when Mrs. Potts inevitably reported to her that he had sat by her side, but he could not stay away. He felt so guilty that he had done this to her, that he had allowed the wolf to harm her despite his best efforts. He wanted so badly to make things right by this brave woman, to make up for all that he had done. No one before had made him feel that way.

As night settled over the castle yet again, he realized how little he had slept in the past two days. As if sensing is weakness, his stomach gave a loud rumble to remind him that he had not eaten, either. But the servants had disappeared again, and he did not want to go even as far as the hall during this crucial time in Belle's recovery. The medicine had yet to start working and he would keep her as comfortable as possible until it did. So he only took up the fresh cloth and the cool water that Mrs. Potts had refreshed earlier, knowing that was all he could do while the medicine took effect. He was pleased to notice though that Belle's fever had finally started to cool.

* * *

Despite his efforts not to, he found that he had dozed off again, the early morning sun momentarily blinding him when he woke. Grumbling, he straightened up but realized there was a feather-light pressure on his paw. He must have fallen asleep while he tended to Belle, for his paw had fallen to the bed beside Belle, still grasping the now dry cloth. He was confused by the tiny weight he felt on the back of his paw and was shocked to find that Belle's delicate, pale hand was gently grasping his forefinger. She must have moved in her sleep, he reasoned, embarrassed to have allowed the girl to touch him. But no, when he looked up he saw Belle's deep brown eyes open and gazing at him. Belle was awake; she was alive! His heart leapt and his joy redoubled when he realized that Belle had consciously placed her hand on his. Could it be that she was no longer afraid of him?

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, keeping as still as possible to avoid possibly frightening her still.

"Much better," she responded quietly. She still seemed exhausted and her voice was weak, but the light in her eyes confirmed that she was indeed improving.

"Good," he grunted, suddenly embarrassed to find that he wanted nothing more than to enfold her tiny hand between his own paws. "I'll let Mrs. Potts know." But when he started to get up Belle tightened her grip on his paw. It wasn't a strong hold, but the Beast let it keep him in his chair.

"Thank you," she all but whispered, the emotion clear in her tired voice.

"I didn't do anything," he insisted. "Mrs. Potts, Lumiere, and Cogsworth—they did. . ." Belle shook her head and smiled as he spoke, but she didn't seem to have the strength to say anything more. "You should rest," he suggested as Belle's eyes blinked wearily. Belle's hand tightened again and he suppressed the urge to chuckle. "I'll stay here," he said in response to Belle's action.

The girl smiled wearily and closed her eyes, asleep again in moments. The Beast stayed with Belle's hand holding his own until her grasp slackened. Slowly, he eased out from under her hand and quickly retreated to his own chambers, making sure to alert Mrs. Potts to Belle's improved condition as he passed her. He had promised Belle that he would stay beside her, but he could not help the terror he felt at the girl's sudden willingness to be so close to him.

As he made his way between the broken furniture and old bones that littered the West Wing, he looked at the paw that Belle had held. He had never imagined that, after the way he had chased her out of this very room, she could find it in her heart to even be near him, let alone touch him. It couldn't be possible that she could see past his monstrous exterior and horrible mistakes.

He walked out onto the balcony, ignoring the glowing, wilting rose that controlled his fate and instead gazed out upon the castle grounds. Somehow, he had made amends with this beautiful, strong woman and he was terrified of doing something that would shatter their delicate new relationship. He tried to reason that if he wasn't around her, then he could not possibly do anything to drive her away. Except that he desperately wanted to be near her.

The excuse to be near her came just hours later when Mrs. Potts cautiously called to him from the door. "Belle needs your help taking the medicine," the kindly teapot informed him. "She's still weak and unable to lift the cup herself." Without a word, the Beast nodded and made his way back down to Belle's room, his heart inexplicably beating faster as he approached her door.

"You said you would stay," her small, tired voice met his ears as he entered through opened the door. She sounded indignant, but when the Beast looked at her she was smiling.

"I had some things to attend to," he muttered and picked up the earthenware cup Mrs. Potts stood beside.

"I'm sorry I had to bother you with this," Belle apologized as he picked the cup up. The Beast paused and looked at her in surprise.

"I don't mind," he finally said. "You've been through a lot because of me." Belle said nothing as the Beast once again helped her drink. She grimaced as she swallowed the medicine.

"It tastes awful," she sighed.

"It saved your life," the Beast said, starting to become angry that she should dismiss the medicine his servants had risked their lives for.

"So did you," she retorted pleasantly. "You all did." The Beast could think of nothing to say, so he remained silent.

"You should rest, my dear," Mrs. Potts broke the silence between them. "Best not to push yourself just yet."

"When can I get out of bed?" she asked, clearly impatient to move about again.

"A couple days, I should think," Mrs. Potts replied. "As long as you rest now."

"But. . ."

"She is right," the Beast interrupted. "You should rest." He stood and made his way to the door, cloak billowing behind him in his haste.

"Wait," Belle called as his paw touched the handle of the door. He half turned, interested in what she had to say. "Thank you for what you did." Her voice was clear and honest and the Beast's heart warmed at the sound.

"You're welcome," he grunted amiably and hastened around the door out of the room.


	6. Chapter 6

The Beast was not summoned to help Belle again, which he took as a sign that she was growing stronger. It did, however, limit his excuses to go and see Belle. During the next three days, the Beast found himself pacing the halls, hands behind his back and brooding to himself. On several occasions, he looked up to see that he had somehow wound his way to the hall that contained Belle's room. Only twice did he find the courage to knock on her door, however. Both times he was greeted by the uplifting sight of Belle sitting up in her bed, dressing gown around her shoulders and an open book in her lap. The delicate flush had returned to her cheeks and she no longer looked helplessly tired.

He stayed only a few moments each time, but it was enough to reassure him that Belle would make a full recovery. Both times he had visited, Belle had also thought to make sure his own wound was healing well. He had completely forgotten about the slices on his arm in light of Belle's illness, but he assured her that they gave him no trouble.

He was still overwhelmed by the change in her attitude towards him. Only a few days ago she had hated the sight of him, even refusing to eat with him. He blanched at the memory of him bellowing outside her door to starve if she would not have dinner with him. He was determined never to act like that again, a decision that was reaffirmed every time Belle smiled at him. Perhaps Belle wasn't the only one to change. He dared to hope it was possible.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle was surprised to find that she missed the Beast while she was recovering. Though she had not intended to have the intimidating creature tend to her, she was flattered and overjoyed that he had done it just the same. It was true she had slept through much of his stay by her side, but when she woke to see him beside her she felt safe and comfortable. These feelings startled her, especially when she recalled that this was the same beast who had locked her father up to die. But when she remembered the kindness and warmth in his eyes the night he had rescued her, it was easy to believe that it was _not_ in fact the same beast. And when Mrs. Potts had told her what he had done for her while she was so ill, she was convinced that the Beast had shown his true and gentle heart.

Two days later, with the help of the medicine Lumiere and Cogsworth had produced for her, she was able to safely walk around her room. The wound on her leg still pained her, but it was no longer threatening her life. She remembered how the angry, hot pain had woke her in the middle of the night that first day, searing down her leg like poison. She shuddered as she remembered how terrified she was that it might consume her with no one to help her. But they had all come, in the end, even the Beast.

The Beast had only visited her twice after the medicine began to take effect, but she was glad of the chance to see him. She wondered if he was a little embarrassed about what he had done for her and she welcomed the chance to tell him he needn't be, but he did not stay long enough for her to convince him. Instead she spent a large majority of those three days consoling Madame Armoire who wailed every time Belle stumbled or touched her leg.

On the third day, itching to leave the room, she gained permission from Mrs. Potts to walk around the grounds. Cheerfully she donned a new outfit Madame Armoire provided for her, being sure to give plenty of praise for the beautiful green dress to help improve the wardrobe's mood.

Once she was dressed and her hair was pulled back as usual she felt quite like herself again. So it was in good spirits that she left her room and found her way to the door, careful to keep hold of the rail as she descended the steps. Just as she turned the last corner before the door that led to the snowy gardens, she bumped into something large and white which emitted a grunt of surprise. She caught herself from falling over and looked up to see the Beast.

"Oh, Beast," she said, relieved to finally see him. She was surprised to see that he had changed his clothes. Instead of the ragged trousers and torn purple cape, he now wore tidy black trousers, a new deep blue cape, and a beautiful white linen shirt of all things. "You look—well—_nice_," she said honestly, noticing that he had even combed his fur.

"Um, thank you," he said uncertainly, reaching back to scratch his the back of his neck. "So do you. It's good to see you up again." Belle tried not to blush, though there was logically nothing she should be blushing at.

"Thank you. It feels good to be out of my room," she admitted with a happy sigh. "I was going for a walk on the grounds. Would you like to join me?"

"A walk? Do you think that's a good idea with your wound?" His large eyebrows knit together with concern and Belle smiled.

"I feel fine. Mrs. Potts said I would be all right as long as I didn't exert myself. Are you coming?"

"Oh, I—uh, no not right now," he stammered. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought the Beast was a bit nervous.

"All right. Will I see you later?" she asked, reaching to take hold of his paw in hopes he would agree to her new request. The Beast glanced down at their joined hands and looked back at her to nod. "Good," she said happily and waved as she continued towards the door, doing her best not to limp more than she could help.

Belle made her way to the stables, thinking that Philippe might welcome a walk around the grounds as well. As she buckled the bridle around her dear horse's head, she wondered about her new desire to be with the Beast. Part of her felt as though she was betraying her father; the Beast had, after all, locked him in the dungeons before ripping she and her father apart. It still provoked a deep sadness in her heart to see the Beast drag her father away without allowing so much as a goodbye.

But the Beast had become so different in just a few short days. Barely a shadow of that animal remained in this Beast's gentle eyes, surely her friendship with him would be justifiable. She led Philippe across the grounds still lost in thought about the Beast. As if Philippe could sense her confusion, he nudged her gently, making her smile and she pet his nose lovingly. Just then Sultan, the footstool that acted like a puppy, scampered by her and dove into a snow bank. Laughing at his antics, she carefully knelt and scooped him into her arms, scratching the side of his head and making his back leg wiggle.

Out of the corner of her eye, Belle thought she saw a large shadow moving. When she turned to look, however, she saw only Lumiere and Cogsworth standing on the ledge of a balcony above her head. She waved cheerfully at them and grinned as they waved in return, Lumiere practically jumping in his enthusiasm. She giggled and continued her walk, glad the servants had grown to like her so much. They had been so kind to her since the moment she arrived and she was grateful for their companionship. If only she could get the Beast to talk to her, her stay here would be much more agreeable.

A little while later, Belle's stomach began to growl. So she put Philippe back in his stall and followed Sultan back inside the castle to see if she could find lunch and perhaps seek out the Beast. Maybe she could read _Le Morte d'Arthur_ to him; it was one of her favorites and she was overjoyed when Mrs. Potts confirmed that they had a copy within the castle. She was already nearly halfway through it, though she only began reading it only a few days ago, but she would be willing to start over if the Beast agreed to let her read it to him. She smiled at the idea and hoped that the Beast wouldn't mind that she liked to read. . .


	7. Chapter 7

Belle's POV

She took lunch in her room, more exhausted than she was willing to admit. As she sat in her chair by the small table at the window, her leg took advantage of the opportunity to twinge with pain. Confident she was alone with Madame Armoire, she lifted her dress past her knee to examine the wound. Beneath its bandages, the stitches were clean and the wound was nearly closed. Soon she would be able to remove the stitches she had tied so carefully.

It occurred to her that it was the stitches themselves that caused the infection in the first place; the material must not have been adequately sanitary and she was glad she had not needed to use them on the Beast. Doubtless he would have become as ill as she had. Though her stomach gave a comfortable twinge at the idea of sitting by his bedside as the Beast had for her.

"Did you enjoy your walk, dearie?" Madame Armoire asked as Belle ate her warm lunch.

"Yes, I did. It's so beautiful out there with the snow nearly untouched. It was good to get some fresh air after all that time being cooped up in here." At her words, Madame Armoire's odd wooden face screwed up as she threatened to cry again. _Oh dear_, Belle sighed to herself.

"Madame," she started as she walked over to the emotional servant. "I know you feel badly about what happened that night. But it is _not_ your fault. There wasn't much you could have done if you had woken. I was too ill and scared to have done anything else anyway. Please don't feel so guilty about it. Please." If Belle thought her arms would have reached, she would have tried to hug the wardrobe, but she had to settle with a gentle pat on the servant's shoulder.

"My dear you are so sweet!" Madame Armoire exclaimed miserably. "I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I am so grateful you're not mad!"

"Of course not," Belle assured her, smiling at the wardrobe's self-imposed drama. She knew little about this creature, but Belle couldn't help but think that Madame Armoire could have been some sort actress. If she was human, that is. And Belle got the distinct impression that she had been. . .

A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Belle's thoughts. Belle opened the door to find Mrs. Potts and Lumiere on the other side.

"Bonjour, ma cherie!" Lumiere exclaimed as he and Mrs. Potts hopped inside. "It is good to see you looking so well!"

"Thank you, Lumiere. It's all because of you two and Cogsworth," Belle said with a smile, always amused by Lumiere's persistent cheerfulness.

"And the Master," Mrs. Potts put in.

"And the Master," Belle agreed easily. "Where is he, by the way?"

"Oh, that is why we have come! He has asked us to come to see if you would join him in the south passage," Lumiere said.

"Why didn't he just come ask me?" Belle asked, slightly upset that he might send his servants in his place. Was he so opposed to spending time with her?

"He and Cogsworth are seeing to some details," Mrs. Potts replied elusively.

"Details?" Belle asked and received only nods in return. "I suppose it's no good asking for what."

"You will find out soon enough, ma cherie," Lumiere chuckled. "If you are feeling well enough, we shall leave now."

"Very well, lead the way," Belle said and closed her bedroom door as they went into the hallway. She followed Mrs. Potts and Lumiere through the castle to a part she had never been in before and was surprised to see a mop and bucket scurry past them back down the way Belle had just come. Lumiere chuckled nervously when Belle glanced at the retreating object curiously.

"Almost there, dear," Mrs. Potts brought Belle's attention back to the mystery at hand.

"What's going on?" Belle couldn't help but ask. She had seen many objects move throughout the castle during her stay here, but never such serious cleaning supplies. What had they been cleaning that required a mop? Instead of answering her question directly, they motioned just down the hall where the Beast stood before a pair of large doors, Cogsworth grinning as he stood nearby.

"You came," the Beast said, clearly surprised to see Belle.

"Well Mrs. Potts and Lumiere were being so cryptic, I couldn't help but want to see what was going on," she replied with a smile. "Will you tell me what's happening?"

"Thank you for bringing her," the Beast said to his servants, clearly dismissing them. Belle couldn't help feeling a bit nervous as the three kind servants made their way back down the hall, leaving her alone with the Beast. She looked back at his hulking form, reminding herself that she had been alone with him before, albeit she was unconscious most of the time.

"What's going on?" she repeated, trying to be more curious than nervous.

"Belle, there's something that I want to show you," he said, his deep voice rumbling gently. And, unless Belle was very much mistaken, he seemed rather excited about this 'something.' The Beast turned to the doors behind him, but paused and turned back to her. "But first, you have to close your eyes." Belle raised a skeptical eyebrow, wondering why on earth he would want her to do that. As if to answer her unasked question, he added, "It's a surprise."

Finding that her curiosity about what lay behind those doors overwhelmed any fear she felt, she did as the Beast asked. When her eyes were closed, she heard the squeak of the doors opening and felt the Beast's massive hands gently take hold of her own. She was startled by his touch, but did not flinch away. As her hands lay in his, she realized how very small she was compared to him; her entire hand filled only the tips of his fingers. The Beast could hurt her so easily with his massive bulk and strength, but she felt more comfort than fear beside his warmth. She reflected that a few short days ago she would not have even allowed the Beast to come near her, now here she was allowing him to lead her blindly into an unknown room. Her feet hesitated as she felt the floor change from the carpet of the hall to some sort of hard tile in the unknown room, but the Beast's guidance never faltered.

"May I open them?" she asked, hearing her voice echo around what seemed to be a rather large room.

"No, no not yet," the Beast answered excitedly. "Wait here," he directed a moment later and Belle felt his hulking, warm presence leave her. She heard the sound of rustling fabric and a light glowed through her closed eyelids. It was a bit unnerving standing blindly in empty space, but if her other senses held true, she could smell the unmistakable scent of parchment. The familiar smell sent her heart beating excitedly and she felt as though she would burst with her curiosity.

"_Now_ can I open them?" she asked again.

"All right, now."


	8. Chapter 8

Beast's POV

The Beast watched eagerly as Belle's eyes fluttered open and widen as she took in her surroundings. He held his breath and waited her to say something about the massive library he had just presented to her.

As he waited, he recalled just that morning when he watched her walk around the grounds, unable to suppress the overwhelming joy he felt at seeing her so well again. The pangs of guilt knowing he had helped cause her injury and illness still hurt him and he wanted so badly to make up for what he had done. It went beyond that, though; he had discovered that he wanted most of all was to see her smile again as she had when she woke to find him by her bedside. So when Lumiere had told him the interest Belle had shown when she was told the castle held a library, together with the memory of the book he found by Belle's bed, he immediately decided that the library would be just the thing to provoke such a smile.

And now, he was not disappointed. Belle turned in circles around herself, her wide eyes taking in the seemingly endless shelves that held thousands and thousands of books. He never had an interest in this room before, allowing it to fall under a layer of dust and neglect. So it was with great haste that he summoned every available servant to clean the massive room. He had even joined them, rearranging some inanimate furniture and dusting off the mantle of the massive fireplace. They had finished not a moment too soon, the last of the servants fleeing as the Beast heard Belle's soft footsteps approaching.

"Do you like it?" he asked eagerly, powerless to help the smile that spread across his face as he watched her take in the room.

"It's wonderful!" she exclaimed, seemingly unable to stop turning in circles to catch every last detail.

"Then it's yours." Belle turned to him at his words, her expression one of shock and joy.

"Thank you so much!" She stepped forward to reach for his massive paws and smiled gloriously at him, her eyes shining with what could be nothing less than pure joy. The Beast realized that this was more than just the smile he had hoped for; this was a smile just for him. He had given her this happiness and his heart leapt at seeing her so elated. In the distance, he heard the library doors close and he suspected the servants had been watching them, but he didn't care. The Beast wanted nothing more than to stand like this forever, Belle's hands in his own and her joy enveloping both of them in warmth.

"You can't give me an entire library, though," she said, glancing around the massive room once more while keeping hold of his paws. "It's so much! A book or two would have been more than enough." The Beast grinned as he realized what was going on. At her words, he had begun to worry that she did not want to accept a gift from him because of what he was, but he saw that she was only worried about the extravagance of it.

"Belle, please accept it. This is a gift. Don't you like it?" He asked the question knowing what the answer was. Based on her reaction, how could she say anything against it?

"I—of course I do, but. . .Are you sure?"

The Beast couldn't help but chuckle as he nodded. It was all the reassurance she needed, instantly leaving his side to examine the shelves of books more closely. He thought to leave her alone to explore, but he couldn't bear to leave her side just yet. So he followed her at a distance, watching with amusement as she ran her hands along the book's bindings.

"You have so many books!" she exclaimed happily as she bent to read some of the titles. "I didn't know there were this many in the entire world! How did you come by them all?"

"I—uh. . ." he wasn't sure what to say. He hadn't expected her to ask questions about his past and was suddenly worried how much he should reveal. "My mother built up the library," he finally confessed.

"You're mother?" she repeated, stopping her search to glance at him curiously. "Then this is your own castle?"

"Yes," he answered shortly, not entirely sure he liked the way the conversation was going. Belle looked like she wanted to say something more, but after moment closed her mouth and turned back to the shelves. The Beast sighed with relief.

"My mother liked to read, too," she said nonchalantly as she browsed the shelves. "She used to read me fairy tales when I was very small. When I was old enough, I would read them to her, even when she. . .when she got sick." Belle's hand fell from where it had been caressing the binding of a book and her smile faded. The Beast frowned at this, worried that his gift had upset her.

"Belle?" He reached carefully for her hand and felt her fingers close around his.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking up at him with a sad sort of smile. "I just miss her sometimes, that's all."

"I understand," he muttered, surprised to find himself recalling his own mother and her untimely death when he was a small boy.

"Come," she said suddenly. "This place is far too exciting to ruin with the past. What's up here?" Her sudden burst of energy sent her flying up one of the curved staircases. Surprised by this, the Beast followed her as best he could, his bulk making it difficult to navigate the curve of the stairs. By the time he reached the top, Belle had a pile of books in her arms and a large grin on her face.

"I see you found something to read, then?" he said and was surprised when she responded with a giggle.

"One or two," she responded. "There's still a couple more I want to take as well. Would you mind holding these?" The Beast barely had time to extend his arm before he found them full of books.

"You're going to read all of these?" he asked, shocked that anyone would even think about going through all those volumes. There had to be at least fifteen in his arms, and Belle was steadily picking out more.

"Not all at once," she admitted. "But I like to keep a running pile to devour. In the village, the bookkeeper would set aside all the new books he received because he knew I would just pick them out anyway. I'll only take a few more, I promise." Belle turned to examine the shelves again and the Beast chuckled again.

"They're all yours. Take as many as you want." Minutes later, Belle turned with six or seven books in her own arms and motioned that they should return to the main floor again. The Beast followed her to the massive fireplace where Belle ignored the plush chairs and sat instead on the rug by the hearth, dumping her books into a pile in front of her. He hesitated, unsure if he should mimic her or if he should merely give her the books and leave.

"I'll need your help going through all of these," she said, looking up at him from where she sat on the floor, her green dress fanned out around her. Needing no further invitation, the Beast deposited the books in his arms to join the others and sat across from Belle on the floor, the great pile of books between them.

"Uh, what should I do?" he asked uneasily, a little overwhelmed by the mass of volumes that lay before him.

"Well, have you read any of these books?" Belle asked as she lay the books flat so their titles could be seen. The Beast did not need to look at the volumes to know that he had never read them before.

"No," he replied simply, avoiding her eyes.

"All right, then you can hold up each book for me one by one to help me decide where they will go. It will be a bit less overwhelming for me that way. If you want to, that is," she added hastily, tucking a stray hair away from her face. Instead of answering directly, he took up a blue book with gold print on the cover and held it up for Belle to examine. The book was tiny in his hands, but he made sure to keep the title visible though he could barely read it himself. Belle contemplated the book for a moment.

"_Canterbury Tales_, that can wait," she decided and took the book from him to start a pile to her right. The Beast repeated this action several times over, allowing Belle to focus on each one individually and place it in whatever order she deemed was best. He could find no order that was obvious to him, even as she read the titles aloud, so he supposed they were being sorted in a way that made sense only to her. Every once in a while, Belle would pause and turn to the pile she had created, switching the order of a couple of the books and mumbling to herself. The Beast watched her do this, realizing how endearing her soft muttering was to him. It seemed an odd thing to be amused by, but he didn't think too much about it.

"Oh!" she exclaimed at the next book the Beast held up. He jumped at this sudden reaction, nearly dropping the book to the floor. "_King Arthur_! I haven't read this since I lived in the city!" She took the book from him and started flipping through the pages eagerly.

"I thought you lived in a village?" he asked, confused. Had she lied to him for some reason?

"I do. Papa and I moved there when I was sixteen. Before that we lived in Paris. I had a friend there who I would read for _hours_ with; we would go on picnics or read in the parlor, switching off reading chapters with each other. This was the last book we bought before I had to move. I let her keep it so she would remember me." Belle paused and the Beast was concerned she would lapse into an unhappy silence, but he needn't have worried. She seemed too excited at the discovery of what seemed like an old friend. "I'm so glad I have the chance to read this again! I would beg the bookkeeper to order it for me, but he could never find it."

"So that's first on the list to read, right?" he asked, glad that Belle had refused to be sorrowful at her memories. It wasn't that he didn't want her to keep her memories close, but it made him uncomfortable that she remembered her past so fondly and yet so mournfully. He had little experience in comforting people and was sure he would make a mess of it if he had to try to soothe Belle.

"Definitely," she confirmed. "We still have a few to go through though. I'm glad you're helping me do this. If you weren't here I would probably start reading _King Arthur_ and leave the other poor books on the floor."

"You're welcome," he said, though noticed that his foot had started to fall asleep. He resolutely ignored it and picked up the next book.

When all the books had finally been piled to Belle's liking, the Beast could not help but sigh with relief and stood only to sit in the nearby chair to try and return circulation to his foot. It had taken nearly an hour to sort through all those books; Belle would keep changing her mind about the order or end up thumbing through some of her favorites. He was glad that she was enjoying herself, but his foot had begun to tingle unpleasantly.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, distracted from her books by his actions. He paused, somehow unwilling to admit such a simple, silly thing had happened to him, but decided he would surrender his dignity just this once.

"My foot fell asleep," he admitted with a sheepish smile.

"That happens to me all the time! Try stomping it a couple times," she suggested. "It will hurt a bit but it helps it go away faster, I think." The Beast did as she said though it felt like a thousand pins were sticking into his foot.

"Thank you," he sighed when the sensation finally left. "Have you decided what to read first? Will it be _King Arthur_?" He motioned to the two neatly stacked pile of books beside her, each nearly reaching her shoulder as she sat.

"I think so. . ." she said hesitantly, looking over her piles once more. "I think I want to save _King Arthur_ after all. Perhaps I'll reread some of Grimm's fairy tales first."

"I thought fairy tales were supposed to be happy. But a man named Grimm wrote them?"

"It was two writers, brothers actually. And I never thought of it like that before," Belle giggled. "I suppose that is a bit ironic, though not all of them have happy endings. I don't read those much, though. I prefer the ones that end well. At least as far as the fairy tales are concerned. I don't mind if novels don't end well as long as the story is beautiful."

Belle continued on about what kinds of tales she preferred and why while the Beast simply sat and listened. He reflected that before Belle had found a way to warm his heart, he might have simply gotten up and left her ramblings. But now, for reasons unknown to even him, he found her opinions interesting, at least enough to show her the courtesy of paying attention. He also noticed that the more she talked about her stories, the more beautiful she seemed to become. Belle was a beauty to begin with, it was true, but when she spoke of her books her face seemed to light up, giving her a kind of ethereal glow.

"What's the matter?" he heard her ask and the Beast realized that he had been staring at her.

"Oh, uh, nothing," he stammered, embarrassed to have been caught in such odd, tender thoughts. "I just never heard anyone talk about books the way you do. It's like they're you're friends instead of just words on pages."

"Well, I guess that's sort of true. Not many people like to be seen with a woman who reads, but the characters in the stories were always far more interesting than anyone I had met anyway. Except for Clarice of course, my friend from Paris."

"Because she liked to read, too," the Beast said sourly, figuring out a bit how Belle really worked. She read to keep interesting company because those around her were too illiterate and dull, so how could he assume to be part of that elite group? He, who couldn't even read and hadn't experienced life beyond his castle in over ten years. He stood to leave before his anger could get the best of him. He should have known that he could never have won her over.

"Beast?" he heard her call to him, but he didn't stop until he slammed the library door behind him. Lacking the strength to go any further, he leaned against the door hopelessly, feeling foolish that he had even imagined an intelligent girl like Belle could lower herself to befriend him.


	9. Chapter 9

The Beast felt himself falling through space, his stomach lurched as he reeled unexpectedly backwards. A small sound behind him alerted him to the fact that someone would be caught underneath him as he fell. Quickly, with a deftness that surprised even himself, he rolled enough to fling a massive arm around and catch hold of whoever was behind him before he hit the tiled floor. A hard thud left him slightly dazed, so it was with confusion that he looked to his left to see that he had caught hold of Belle, her head resting safely on his arm.

"Are you all right?" he asked quickly, checking to make sure that no part of her was caught underneath his bulk.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried instead, not answering his question. She pushed herself up to a sitting position but kept a hand on his arm, something that did not escape his notice. "I had no idea you were leaning on the door! Are you hurt?"

"No," he grunted, sitting up himself. His face was hot with embarrassment and yet again he was glad of his fur so his blush wouldn't be noticed. "Are you all right?" he repeated.

"Yes, yes I'm fine," she assured him quickly. "I am a bit confused, though. Why did you walk away just now? Did I do something to offend you?" Her voice was clear with concern and the Beast tried to ignore how sincere it sounded.

"No," he lied shortly, avoiding her gaze but couldn't help glancing over to the fireplace where they had just spent the past hour together. He was still bitter about his new understanding of Belle, how she scorned the company of anyone too uninteresting to be with her books instead. It was his own fault, he supposed. He had supplied her with plenty of material to keep her company for years without ever having to talk to him again. Unable to be in her presence any longer, he went to stand.

"Please," Belle said, placing her tiny hand on his arm again. The Beast blanched against her touch, but stayed where he was. "Please tell me what I've done." She managed to catch his eye and he couldn't help but notice how concerned her beautiful face was. Her deep brown eyes were full of worry, pleading with him to open up to her.

He took several steadying breaths, unsure if he was brave enough to push past his anger and admit what was wrong. Choosing the shortest way possible to keep as much emotion out of his voice as he could, he said: "I can't read."

He watched as understanding filled Belle's eyes. "So you thought that I didn't—" she broke off and the Beast watched as her eyes flickered back and forth, seemingly reviewing all that had happened between them that afternoon. "Oh, Beast please forgive me!" she finally said after a few minutes of thought. "That was a horrible thing for me to say to you. But please, let me explain what I really meant."

The Beast was startled by her reaction and her ability to connect all that had just happened with that one simple sentence. But he could see that her concern was real, so he nodded, motioning that she should speak.

"The people in my village _are_ dull and uninteresting," she confirmed, but continued speaking quickly before he could react. "But that's _not_ because they can't read. It's because they aren't open to someone who can and enjoys it. They scorned Papa and I, calling me odd for reading and Papa crazy for tinkering with his inventions. I did try to befriend the people when I first moved there, but the moment I showed them a book or tried to talk about a story I had read, it was as if I was carrying some sort of disease. It wasn't long before hardly anyone spoke to me. Many people in the city were like that, too. Granted, there were plenty of well-read people, but nearly all of them were men in high-standing positions. Clarice was the only person I ever met who didn't scorn me for reading, because she enjoyed reading herself."

"But—" the Beast began, but Belle interrupted him.

"It doesn't matter if you can or cannot read. You have shown more interest in my love of reading in the past hour than my own father has all my life, and certainly more than the villagers. And when I said my stories were more interesting than anyone I met," she tucked a stray piece of hair back into place and looked at him shyly. "I wasn't including present company."

"Oh," the Beast said quickly, feeling slightly ashamed of the way he had acted now. Had he simply admitted to Belle how he had felt, he could have avoided this embarrassment. "They called you odd?" he continued, surprised at this new information as much as any of it.

Belle smiled, if a bit sadly, and nodded. "It's a bit lonely being so different," she said and the Beast noticed her look at him, her knowing eyes seeming to silently add '_Isn't it?_' Was it possible this lonely girl understood even a fraction of the misery he felt all those years, how his loneliness bore down upon him, unable to ease its hold because of what he was? He moved to stand, suddenly uncomfortable beneath her understanding gaze, but he had no intention of running off again. Belle had not moved from her spot on the floor, so he extended a massive paw down to her. She took it without hesitation and he effortlessly lifted her to her feet, her startled face as she rose so easily amused him.

"Will you come back in?" Belle asked, motioning to the fireplace where her new piles of books waited. Where her old friends waited.

"No," he said and smiled when Belle opened her mouth to argue. "You have friends to visit with," he continued before she could speak. "I will leave you alone now, but I—I would be glad if you want to see me later." It wasn't the most eloquently put, but he hoped he got the point across that he no longer left in anger.

"All right," she said, her smile dazzling him. "I'll see you later, then." He watched briefly as Belle returned to her stacks of books before closing the door once more, his heart beating quickly with excitement by Belle's promise to see him again.


	10. Chapter 10

**I don't own Beauty and the Beast.**

Belle's POV

It had been a week since the Beast had given her the magnificent library. After exhausting herself the first two days exploring every last shelf, she was able to properly settle in to the waiting stack of books the Beast had helped her sort. On that seventh day, however, Belle sat in the library, Grimm's fairy tales waiting in her lap but she found herself too distracted to read. The conversation she and the Beast had after he presented her with the library was still fresh in her mind; the guilt of unknowingly belittling him still held strong in her chest. Though she was glad of the chance to explain herself, she couldn't ignore the fact that the Beast had not entered the library since.

She did not let his absence from the library or her guilt keep her from her new books, though. She spent many hours that week pouring through the piles she and the Beast had created. Belle was worried that the Beast might resume his grumpy, harsh mood in light of her poorly chosen words despite her apology, but she had nothing to fear. Though it was true the Beast went nowhere near the library, he had sought her out several times that week. They had shared many meals together as a result, chatting comfortably with each other and twice taking a stroll around the chilly, snow-covered grounds.

As she sat in the library at the end of the week, she felt her guilt ebb and her frustrated frown turn into a thoughtful smile as she recalled the walk they had taken just last evening.

They had eaten a pleasant dinner together, sitting across a small table that allowed comfortable conversation, but was still large enough to keep any splatter from the Beast's side reaching her own. She was surprised how quickly she had gotten used to the Beast's. . .unorthodox style of eating. It created a bit of a mess, but she understood that his jaw and paws were suited for little else. And he had been improving, with some gentle prodding on her end.

"I'd like to go for a walk," she said when dinner was finished. "Would you like to join me?" They had done such an activity earlier that week, but somehow that night felt different, though she couldn't say just how. The Beast's ears perked up excitedly and agreed, waiting while Belle donned her cloak before following her out to the grounds.

"How's your leg?" he asked as they followed shoveled pathways, the setting sun painting gold and crimson rays across the snow.

"Almost healed, I think. I took the stitches out, so now it's only a small cut. I'm afraid it will leave a bit of a scar, though." Belle didn't really mind the vivid scar that marked her leg, especially since it was unlikely anyone would see it, but she had heard that old scars had a tendency to ache in the cold and rainy weather. While the wound was still too new to test that theory, she wasn't eager to find out if it was true. "How's your arm?" she said when the Beast was silent.

"Fine," he grunted shortly.

"Can I look?" She reached for his arm and he obliged her, pushing up his sleeve and placing his forearm gently in her tiny hands. She was pleased to note that the hide had closed completely and his fur had grown over it evenly to hide any of his own scars. "You healed nicely," she said and ran her hand over the fur on his arm so it lay smoothly. His fur was silky and warm despite the chilly air and she found it difficult to take her hand away.

"You're better at healing others than you are yourself," he grunted again, but she heard a lightness in his voice that suggested he was laughing at her.

"I could say the same for you," she retaliated merrily, recalling how he had cared for her when she was ill and yet neglected himself. Belle lifted her head to look at him, craning her neck back further when she realized how close they were. The Beast looked as though he wanted to say something in reply, but he seemed to have thought better of it and only sighed, his warm breath washing pleasantly over face and causing her to shiver.

"Are you cold?" he asked. Belle nodded, unable to explain why his warmth was truly the cause. "Let's go inside," he suggested and turned back they way they had come. He paused mid-step, however, and turned back to her to hesitantly offer his arm. Surprised at this courteous action, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and allowed him to lead her inside.

Belle sat in her library, her hand caressing the book in front of her as she remembered that somehow alarming interaction. She couldn't quite place what is was, but something between them had changed after the Beast rescued her. He was so gentle now, so eager to see that she was comfortable and happy. Though he still had bouts of his flaring temper, they were far fewer than before and were short lived.

Giving up on the book as impossible, she left the library and walked the halls restlessly, unsure where she went but too distracted to care.

"Hi, Belle!" a small, friendly voice broke through her thoughts.

"Hello, Chip," she replied, smiling at the adorable little teacup. The other teacups were still too shy to talk to her, but she was glad of Chip's persistent joy and forwardness. "What's new today?"

"Nothin' much I guess," he said slowly, apparently trying to recall his day. "Mamma gave me a bath of course," he grumbled. "And the Master was looking for you earlier."

"Do you remember why?" Belle asked, wondering why none of the other servants had told her.

"Nope, sorry! It was awhile ago now, so I don't know if he's still looking for you. Belle, do you like the Master?" he asked suddenly, catching Belle off guard.

"I—well I barely know him, Chip. He's very secretive," she added with a sudden idea. "Is there anything you think I should know about him?" She bent down to be closer to the little cup, hoping that he might inadvertently tell her something about what kind of enchantment was obviously enshrouding the castle.

"Um. . .well he's kinda—"

"Chip! There you are!" Mrs. Potts called as she hopped down the hall. Belle inwardly sighed, wishing that Mrs. Potts had held off just one more minute. The servants were so unwilling to talk about the castle, always changing the subject whenever she brought up the enchantment or their past. Chip was her only realistic hope of letting something slip that would give her a clue. "Belle, dear I believe the Master was looking for you earlier."

"Yes, Chip just told me. Do you know where he is?"

"Last I saw, he was headed towards the library," she said and Belle laughed at herself having come all this way just to have to turn around again.

"Thank you," was all she said before heading back the way she had come. Sure enough, as she approached the library's doors she heard the now-familiar thud of the Beast's heavy footsteps.

"Oh," he grunted in surprise at seeing her as he appeared around a corner.

"Mrs. Potts and Chip said you were looking for me," she prodded, trying to get him to say something.

"That was hours ago," he growled and Belle sensed his temper starting to rise.

"You could have come found me yourself," she reminded him gently. "But you've found me now, so what did you need?"

"I—uh, mostly I just wanted to apologize," he stammered, suddenly very nervous.

"For what?" Belle couldn't think of anything he need apologize for.

"For, uh being a bit too. . .forward last night. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to, and that includes being so near me. It can't be comfortable for you to be near something like me." Belle frowned slightly as she realized that the Beast had thought about the previous night in a far more negative light than she had.

"Oh," was all she could say. How could she convince him that he wasn't repulsive to her as he apparently assumed? And, above all, he was not a _thing_. Perhaps instead of saying something that might embarrass both of them, she could do something instead. "Would you like to join me?" she said simply, motioning to the doors beside them. "I was thinking about starting _King Arthur_, perhaps I could read it to you?"

"All right," he agreed readily and started towards the doors. Belle stood her ground and cleared her throat, causing the Beast to turn back to her.

"Aren't you going to offer me your arm?" she asked innocently. The distance between where she stood and the library chairs was hardly enough to merit such an action, but she hoped it would do the trick to ease his mind. The Beast paused for several heartbeats before walking back to where she stood and extending his arm towards her. Again, she placed her hand on his arm and smiled inwardly at the Beast's open grin.

As they walked arm in arm towards the waiting fireplace, Belle realized something very important: she was no longer a prisoner. If she had asked him, this gentle Beast would have let her go. But she had given her word that she would stay. And, if truth be told, she was intrigued by how the Beast seemed to be changing.

* * *

Beast's POV

She _wanted_ to be near him, he elated to himself as he walked with her towards the library's chairs. He has spent a sleepless night tormenting himself by playing over the night in his head, thinking of a thousand possible ways he had ruined everything by standing so close to her, by suggesting with his impulsive gesture that she touch him. But that worry had been for nothing.

He sat in the armchair across from her, watching as she sifted through the pile of books for the right one. The Beast was a bit unsure about having to sit for the entire length of a book. What if he became restless or hungry or thirsty? Would it be rude to call for Mrs. Potts for a drink in the middle of the story? He had very little frame of reference for this sort of thing; the last book anyone had read to him was a story book when he was a small boy and no one minded if he dozed off in the middle of it.

But when Belle began to read, his fears melted away as he felt himself sinking into the tale. Belle's words flowed easily and soon they became images in his mind. He watched as the boy named Arthur went through his adventures with a wizard named Merlin. Though at first he made uncomfortable connections to his own past, being turned into a beast by the enchantress as Arthur was turned into a fish and a bird by Merlin, the story's adventures soon left his own problems faded in the distance.

"Knowing not that this was indeed the legendary sword of Excalibur," Belle read, "Arthur tried to pull it from the stone. He tried once, but to no avail. He tried a second time but still he could not pull it out. Then, for the third time, Arthur drew for the sword and—"

"So that must mean he's the king!" the Beast exclaimed, nearly rising from his chair in anticipation.

"Wait and see," Belle said with a giggle. The Beast realized that for the first time in years he had forgotten about his own cursed life in light of this book.

"I never knew books could do that," he confessed softly, wondering at his own reaction to the tale.

"Do what?" Belle asked, putting down the book to look at him with real curiosity.

"Take me away from this place, make me forget for a little while."

"Forget?"

"Who I—_what_ I am," he admitted, spreading his hands to motion to his beastly form. To his surprise, Belle sighed and shook her beautiful head.

"You are more of a _who_ than many people I know," she said sternly, apparently disapproving of what he said. "There's a goodness in you I don't think you realize is there. In the town where I come from, there's a man. . .Gaston."

The Beast felt his eyebrows knit together at the mention of another man's name. Was this a beau of hers? How _dare_ she mention another man in front of him. Yet something in her tone suggested that this Gaston might not be all that desirable to her. He recalled when Belle had been ill and was having a nightmare; she had called the name Gaston with clear terror, begging the Beast to save her from him. No, this Gaston was definitely not a beau.

"He's strong, admired, and admittedly one of the most handsome men in the village," she continued with a clear note of disdain. "But he has no _humanity_, no sense of any joy but what he gives himself through his admirers. If anyone could be considered a _what_, as you put it, it would be him."

He tried to absorb what she was saying, what it meant. Could it be true that this beautiful woman before him no longer saw him as a monster? Yes, she could stand to be in his presence for days now, even tolerated his touch, but that he had a _soul_ to her? He could think of nothing to say to that, admittedly overwhelmed by this new information. So he merely smiled in what he hoped to be a grateful manner. Belle smiled in return and turned back to the book.

"For the third time, Arthur drew forth the sword, and there arose from the people a great shout: Arthur is king!"

"Told you so," he said proudly, leaning towards her to emphasize his point. She smiled prettily at him and his heart fluttered.


	11. Chapter 11

Belle's POV

Their time in the library passed nearly unnoticed as Belle read _King Arthur_ to the Beast. She was overjoyed to be revisiting the story that had such a marked point in her life. It was the last book she had read with her dear friend Clarice; as she read it again, she found herself recalling those endless hours they had spent reading to each other. Sometimes, when the story was particularly enchanting, Papa had to remind them to eat something. So when Cogsworth waltzed into the library announcing that dinner was served, she couldn't help but laugh. The Beast looked at her curiously and Belle tried to explain.

"I always seem to forget that I'm hungry when I'm reading a good book," she confessed. As if on cue, her stomach gave a less than subtle rumble.

"I forgot, too," the Beast agreed, his surprised smile warming her heart. She was so glad he was relishing the book as much as she was. Belle had been uncertain the Beast would be willing to sit and listen to her read for so long, but his excited outbursts more than proved he was enjoying himself.

"We'll continue this tomorrow, if you want," she said, placing a ribbon in between the pages to mark where they had left off. The Beast nodded and quickly agreed before escorting her to dinner.

* * *

"When Guinevere heard that Arthur was slain," Belle read the following day, the Beast once again silently listening to her. "She stow away to a convent and no one could ever make her smile again. The end," she sighed and slowly closed the book, unable to help the small tear that formed in the corner of her eye. _Poor Guinevere_, she thought miserably.

"What a beautiful story," the Beast breathed. Belle opened her eyes again, wiping the tear away as she smiled at him.

"I _knew_ you would like it." At least, she had hoped he would.

"Do you want to start another one?" he asked, still sitting in the chair across from her, leaning on its arm as he eagerly listened to her read. She couldn't help but laugh at his position, like a boy asking for a sweet.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to wait a bit before starting a new book. It sounds a bit silly, but I need to let the story settle for a little while. It almost feels like I'm doing the characters an injustice by moving on to another story too quickly." The Beast raised a confused eyebrow at her, but he nodded in agreement if looking a bit disappointed.

"I was wondering. . ." she started as the Beast started to stand and stretch. He paused and turned to look at her again, his gentle, soft blue eyes giving her his full attention. "I was wondering if there was anything _you_ like to do. A hobby, I mean." Belle swallowed nervously, still unsure if she could ask such personal questions of her host.

"No," the Beast grunted, clearly trying to dismiss her question, but Belle would not give up so easily.

"There must be something," she reasoned. "You spend all your time in the castle, isn't there something you like to do to pass the time?"

"I—" he paused and took a breath as if to steady his nerves. "I used to play the piano," he finally admitted and immediately busied himself with stoking the fire unnecessarily.

"Used to?" she pushed gently, staying where she was to avoid making him more uncomfortable than he already seemed. Rather than answering her directly, the Beast stood and spread his large paws for her to examine. The thick fingers were clearly too large to pick out notes on a keyboard, but then how had he learnt to play in the first place?

The answer was clear to Belle, even if it seemed impossible: the Beast had once been human.

She had suspected such a thing since her first dinner at the castle. The enchanted objects, so desperate for something to do, were obviously longing for something that had been taken from them. They could easily have been human themselves until they ran afoul of some sort of enchantment.

But the Beast had been harder to picture as a victim of the same enchantment, at least at first. His perpetual gruffness and anger made him seem too close to an animal to even hint at any humanity. But now, as Belle looked into his beautiful, sorrowful eyes, she could see that he mourned the reminder of a past he could no longer relate to. A past where he had been a human. Belle recalled what the Beast himself had said about his mother building the library. He _confirmed_ that this castle was his own. Suddenly, Belle longed to examine the portrait she had seen in the West Wing; the torn canvas that held the image of a boy with blue eyes all at once seemed connected to this enchantment.

It was clear that the Beast had no intention of discussing his past, but she hated to see his sadness at the reminder that he was no longer a human.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, standing up and taking one of his paws in her hands. "You're claws are only a little bit thicker than my fingers. Have you ever tried to play with the tips of your claws?" The Beast was silent, seeming to contemplate what she had just said.

"No," he finally replied, his voice hesitant. "I didn't think it was possible."

"Would you be willing to try?" The Beast looked pained, as if she had just asked him to fly through the air or set himself on fire to please her.

"Very well," he grunted. "This way." The Beast stalked out of the library, leaving Belle to follow in his wake. She was a bit frightened of what she had just asked him to do. This could end very badly if the Beast did not give himself a chance. The fact that he was willing to try at all was amazing and she couldn't help but smile at the knowledge that he did so to try and please her.

He led her to a small room very near the West Wing. Though it was tidy and well dusted, it had the musty atmosphere of being unused for a long time. The small room was almost entirely taken up by a beautiful grand piano, its dark wood glistening in the light from the hall. Belle immediately went to run her hands along its surface, but she noticed the Beast did not give the instrument so much as a glance as he went to open the curtains that covered the one small window and closed the door.

"I'd rather not have the servants hear," he explained as he did so. Belle nodded, but she felt a little uneasy at being in such a small room alone with the Beast. The Beast took a seat on the bench in front of the instrument; it groaned a bit under his weight but stood strong. "You sure this will work?" he asked uneasily, looking up at her with his eyes filled with near anguish.

"If you have the patience to let it," she warned. "You don't need to try, if you don't want to."

"Do you know how to play?" he asked elusively, clearly trying to put off the moment where his claws would meet the ivory keys.

"I never learned, no. Clarice could; I loved to listen to her play when we tired of reading, but I was never clever enough to pick it up myself." Belle supposed the Beast would have liked some help reuniting with the instrument, but she had nothing to give him.

She watched as the Beast gazed at the keyboard, staring at it as if it were a dangerous animal ready to strike. She realized in that moment what she had asked him to do; he was going to try and regain his humanity physically when he was just learning to do so emotionally. Belle knew that if he truly tried, his claws would be a perfect substitute for the slender fingers playing a piano called for. But the sharp appendages could just as easily tear the beautiful instrument apart, and her along with it in the close proximity of the room.

"Just keep it simple," she suggested, hoping her sudden nerves did not reflect in her voice. The Beast nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the keyboard, and slowly lifted his paw to meet the keys. Belle held her breath and watched as he arched his fingers so the tips of his claws met the surface of the keys.

The first hesitant note echoed around the small room, surprisingly in tune and quickly followed by several others in what Belle understood to be a scale, one note following the one beside it. She watched as the Beast's expression lightened to one of surprise and brought his other paw to join the first on the keys. She closed her eyes as the individual notes became a first a melody and then a recognizable song, melding into each other to create a beauty Belle had never encountered before in her life. It was as if the music became a part of her very soul, lifting her up into the stars and caressing her with its soft resonance.

A sour note brought her crashing back to earth and she opened her eyes, suddenly afraid how the Beast might react to his mistake.

"That was _beautiful_," she sighed, realizing as she spoke that she was repeating the Beast's sentiment after they finished _King Arthur_. The Beast said nothing, only looked at his paws in a way Belle could not decipher. "Beast?" she said hesitantly, taking a step towards him.

Instantly she realized it was a mistake to move. The Beast jumped like a startled deer, his paws convulsively closing as if somehow ashamed of what he had just done. Before Belle could do anything, the Beast stood and hastened out of the door in a whirl of his cloak. Belle slowly sunk to the bench the Beast so hastily vacated, wondering what on earth just happened.

* * *

Beast's POV

He bolted to the West Wing, dropping to all fours to reach his sanctuary all the faster. Once the door slammed behind him and his solitude was assured, he roared in agony, wishing he could rip off his paws as easily as he tore off that foolish shirt. The shreds of fabric floated down to the floor just as another petal from that infernal rose fluttered to the table's surface.

"What have I done?" he moaned to himself, holding his head in his paws. He had tried to please her, to do what she asked him to do, but he could not deny the reality of the creature he was. Human hands that once flew easily over the keys of a piano now stumbled and suffered through every note with their animal clumsiness. How could she expect him to do something so. . .so human?

With a bout of fury, he swiped at the broken remains of an old wardrobe, sending wooden shards flying across the room. It did nothing to satisfy his anger, so he continued to strike any object that blocked his path, splintering wood and thunderously roaring like the animal he was until his rage had at last begun to subside.

Filled now only with shame, he sank to the floor amongst the new rubble he had created, wishing bitterly that this girl had never come to taunt him with dreams and then so mercilessly show him what he will never be again: human.


	12. Chapter 12

Belle's POV

Belle sat in the piano room just down the hall from the West Wing and listened as the Beast's roars shook the walls around her. She wrapped her arms around herself in her own sorrow, ashamed that she had made the Beast do something that made him so unhappy. He had given her everything since he had learned to be so kind, and she had done nothing but cause him pain. She hardly understood why the Beast felt such shame from the beauty he had just created, but she was determined to never ask such a thing from him again.

She stood slowly and ran her hands one last time over the instrument that so recently sent her dreams soaring at the hands of the Beast. With a sigh, she closed the door behind her and retreated to her room.

"Hello, dearie," Madame Armoire greeted her, but Belle could only summon a small smile. "What's wrong?" she asked. Belle sunk into the chair by her vanity, exhausted by her sorrow at what she had done to the Beast.

"I asked the Beast to do something I shouldn't have," she admitted finally. "I just wanted to know what he liked to do. He spent so much time doing what I enjoy, I only wanted to return the favor. But it only made him angry and he ran from me. Again."

"You know," Madame Armoire began. "The Master's not all that used to having women around. He probably just got scared."

"Him, scared?" she said doubtfully. It was hard to picture the massive Beast as frightened of anything, especially her. But then she remembered the day he had presented the library to her, how he had twisted his paws together nervously. _He's afraid of _me_?_ she thought to herself and tucked a stray hair away from her face. What an odd turn of events. "Do you think I should go talk to him?"

"You might want to wait a bit and let that temper of his run out," Madame Armoire suggested and Belle quickly agreed. She had been on the wrong end of his temper once and was not eager to relive the experience. So Belle waited in her room, unwilling to wander the halls and chance running into an angry Beast. He would probably stay in the West Wing for now, but it wasn't a chance she was willing to take. Her only other destination would be the library, but she was too distracted to try and read again anyway.

* * *

Hours later, Belle's empty stomach provoked her into cautiously seeking out the Beast to ask if he wanted to have dinner with her. Unwilling to go directly to the West Wing, though it was likely where he was to be, she instead tried to see if he was elsewhere in the castle. None of the servants had seen him since they had been in the library that afternoon, but Belle checked every room she could think of until there was no other choice but to go to the West Wing.

She timidly approached the dark doors, the massive creature that served as door handles staring at her as if daring her to approach them once again. Cautiously, she pressed an ear against the door but heard no crashing furniture or sinister growls. Gathering her courage, she knocked on the door and stepped back, ready for the Beast to jump out at whoever dared to intrude on his solitude. But nothing happened.

Belle dared to knock again, a little louder this time and jumped slightly when the door opened a crack.

"Belle?" she heard the Beast say, but couldn't see him through the shadow.

"I—I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," she started, her strength growing at his mild-tempered greeting. "But I was getting a little hungry. I wanted to see if you would join me for dinner."

"Not hungry," he grunted and the door started to close.

"Wait," she said and unconsciously put out a hand to keep the door open, though her tiny strength would be no match for the Beast should he truly want to keep her out. To her surprise, though, the door remained open. "Are you angry with me?" she demanded, trying to keep her voice even and calm.

"No," Belle heard him take a deep breath. "I'd like to be alone, please."

_Please?_ Belle was so shocked to hear the word come from the Beast that she allowed the door to completely close. The soft click of the door fitting in its place recalled her attention and she realized how sad the Beast had sounded. She wanted nothing more than to burst in and demand what was wrong, why he was so unhappy, but the Beast's polite request still rang in her ears. If he had asked so politely, perhaps it _was_ best to leave him alone.

Belle walked bemusedly back to her room, supper all but forgotten as she replayed the Beast's request in her mind. It was clear that somehow playing the piano had upset him, but was it because of himself as she first suspected, or had she caused his sorrow? _Should_ she have demanded to be let in and wrestle an explanation from him?

"How'd it go?" Madame Armoire asked excitedly as Belle entered her room once again.

"He asked to be left alone," Belle said, still slightly in shock at the Beast's words.

"Oh, well that's nothing. . ."

"He said please," Belle interrupted and Madame Armoire, for the first time since Belle came to the castle, was speechless. "And not the rather sarcastic one my first night here, either. It was a sincere request. I thought it best to just leave him be. Something must be very wrong for him to say that though, don't you think?"

"I can't really say. Maybe one of the servants will ask him. Mrs. Potts is very good at that sort of thing."

"Mrs. Potts? Oh that's a wonderful idea!" Without another word, Belle rushed towards the kitchen in search of the motherly tea kettle.

"Good evening," Cogsworth greeted her as she pushed the swinging door open. "What can I do for you, my dear?"

"I was looking for Mrs. Potts. Have you seen her?"

"Over here, dear," Mrs. Potts called from counter behind Belle.

"I have a bit of a favor to ask," Belle began, sitting on a stool by the counter where Mrs. Potts stood. "The Beast and I had a. . .a misunderstanding earlier. I went to talk to him, but he won't let me in. I think something's truly wrong, though. Would you see if you could speak to him for me?"

"I suppose so," Mrs. Potts said slowly. "He was making a bit of a racket this afternoon, wasn't he?" Belle nodded but was too ashamed of herself to explain what she had done to provoke such a reaction. "I'll see what I can do. Why don't you stay here and have something to eat?" Belle could only nod again and watched Mrs. Potts leave.

"Well," Cogsworth huffed once Mrs. Potts left. "I've never seen anyone be able to break the Master's mood before, not even Mrs. Potts."

"He's not angry anymore," Belle replied as a plate and several serving dishes moved in front of her. "When I tried to talk to him he seemed so sad, as if his whole world had collapsed." She picked up her fork and tried to muster the ambition to eat, but found that her guilt at causing the Beast's sorrow made eating undesirable.

"I'm sure she'll sort it out," Cogsworth reassured her, his rather pompous attitude forgotten as he tentatively patted her hand. Belle smiled gratefully at him and allowed him to coax her into taking a few bites of food.

* * *

"You got him to play the piano?" Belle heard Mrs. Potts ask a little while later. Belle had remained in the kitchen to wait for Mrs. Potts and, though Cogsworth protested, started doing dishes to pass the time. Belle turned at Mrs. Potts' words and dried her hands on a dishtowel.

"Yes," Belle said slowly. "I only wanted to know what he like to do, since he's been spending so much time listening to me read. I didn't know he would _force_ himself to do it just because I asked. But oh, it was so beautiful! I've never heard such music before in my life. Is he angry with me?"

"No, dearest. He's a bit ashamed of himself, actually. You see, he hasn't played since before. . ." Mrs. Potts trailed off as if unsure how to continue.

"Since before he was a Beast?" Belle suggested and heard the servants around her gasp. "I know he used to be human. Why else would he have learned to play and then suddenly stop? His hands became paws. I've known for a little while now, I think. I won't tell him I know," she said hastily. "I'm sure he doesn't want to be reminded of that."

"And we all thank you for that," Mrs. Potts sighed. "It was a difficult time while he adjusted to being what he is now. I think being reminded of what he used to be was too painful for him."

"I won't ask him to play the piano again," Belle easily promised. "Do you think he'll come out of his room soon, though?"

"It's hard to say. He doesn't want to do anything to displease you, you know. But he has suffered such a heartache today. Best give him a little time."

* * *

Belle waited two days for the Beast to emerge from hiding. Two days of eating alone, two days spent reading by herself in the library, two days of walking the grounds without his warm presence beside her. She couldn't help the loneliness that started to creep into her heart without the Beast. Though the servants were friendly enough company, they had their chores to attend to and would not let her help. Belle wondered how the Beast had endured possibly years as she spent the past two days.

There had been several times during those two days where Belle was sorely tempted to march into the West Wing and convince the Beast to stop being so foolish. But she remembered to keep her own temper and simply waited for the Beast to come out by himself like the timid deer he seemed to be imitating.

As the sun set outside the library's large windows that second day, Belle began to wonder if the Beast would _ever_ come out of the West Wing. Had she done enough harm to keep him away for good? Her heart sunk as she realized the Beast might never forgive her, never give her the chance to apologize for the wrong she had done to him.

She watched the sun set as she sat by one of the windows, absentmindedly flipping the pages of a book rapidly over her thumb and wondered if the Beast would forgive her for forcing him to remember his humanity.

"Mademoiselle?" Lumiere's voice interrupted her sorrowful thoughts. She looked down and smiled at the candelabra though her thoughts were still with the Beast. "Dinner is ready," he said and Belle thought he looked too excited for such a simple announcement.

"What's going on?" she asked, spinning on the window seat so her feet touched the floor.

"Why, nothing, ma cherie," Lumiere insisted. "We are all simply worried about your lack of appetite recently." Belle nodded but suspected that the servants were up to something.

Her answer came as she stepped into the small dining room she and the Beast since they had started dining together. The first dining hall the servants welcomed her in was far too large have a comfortable meal, so Belle had almost immediately insisted on using this smaller, more friendly room.

As Belle stepped into the room, she noticed that the Beast was sitting at the table in his usual chair. She was so shocked to see him there, as if the past few days had not happened, she couldn't help the little 'oh!' of surprise that escaped her. The noise had drawn the Beast's attention to her presence and he immediately stood.

"Hello," she said simply, so eager to apologize to him and yet unsure if she should even mention what had happened.

"Hello," he replied, looking as uncertain as she felt. He rubbed the back of his neck and shuffled his feet before finally stepping towards her and lifting his downcast eyes to meet hers. Belle met his gaze steadily, trying to find a similarity to the Beast's blue eyes with those of the boy in the portrait she glimpsed in the West Wing. Could they be the same person?

"Are you hungry?" he gestured to the table laden with steaming plates.

"Very," she replied and followed his lead to her seat. "Mmmm, roast beef," she sighed happily.

"You, uh, you said it was your favorite," the Beast muttered.

"It is, thank you." Belle grinned at the Beast, flattered that he remembered what her favorite dish was and cared enough to make sure it was served the night he decided to reappear. She decided to interpret it as a peace offering.

As the dishes served themselves, she watched as the Beast avoided eye contact with her, looking very ashamed of himself. Belle _had_ to say something to let him know everything was all right. That she, too, was ashamed of what had passed just a few days ago.

"I, um. . .It was very lonely these past couple of days," she finally said, glancing up at the Beast from her plate.

"Really?" the Beast said and Belle was somewhat pleased to hear the note of surprise in his voice.

"I even found myself reading out loud to thin air once or twice because I'm already so used to you being there." Perhaps this was an exaggeration, but she had truly missed his company.

"I'd like to hear another story," he said and finally met her eyes. The moment their eyes met, Belle knew that the Beast had forgiven her and, based on his careful smile, everything was all right between them again.

* * *

**Ok, I don't know if roast beef was actually served during this time period, but it's delicious so I decided it would be!**

**I know this chapter was a lot of Belle, but I promise to the Beast lovers there will be more of his point of view soon!**

**Keep reading and reviewing! I love to hear what you think and I do try to take them into consideration!**


	13. Chapter 13

"Oh look, it snowed last night!" Belle exclaimed when she rose the next morning. The grounds outside her window had been covered in fresh blanket of white, glistening invitingly in the morning sun. Belle quickly donned a pink dress with three-quarter length sleeves but thick material suitable for the cold. A matching fur-lined cloak would ensure her warmth when she ventured outside.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Madam Armoire asked before Belle could leave. "Breakfast," the wardrobe reminded her in response to Belle's confused look.

"Oh, yes of course." Belle removed her cloak but draped it over her arm, too impatient to venture into the sparkling white scene to have to retrieve the cloak later on.

As she went in search of something to eat, she hoped she would run into the Beast. Now that they were on good terms again, she was eager for the chance to be able spend some of that lost time with the him.

* * *

Beast's POV

Despite the success of last night's dinner, the Beast was terrified that he had ruined everything with Belle by hiding shamefully for the past few days. He felt badly about rushing away from Belle as he had, but his embarrassment was too much to bear at the time to do anything else. Fortunately, Mrs. Potts had come to speak with him the night of the incident, apparently at Belle's request, to ease his torment. Mrs. Potts had helped him understand that Belle had not meant any harm by what she had done, she simply didn't realize what such a thing meant for him. The Beast tried so hard to please Belle, but asking him to recover that much of his humanity was too much.

Dinner last night had done everything Mrs. Potts said it would. Belle had forgiven him, correctly interpreting the dinner for the apology it was. And the Beast had not even needed to mention the horrible episode.

The Beast ventured downstairs that morning, wondering if he might convince Belle to have breakfast with him. He was feeling a bit daring and decided to wear a rather formal green jacket with gold trim, abandoning his usual cloak for the first time in years. As he made his way downstairs, he couldn't help but remember her admitting how lonely she had been in his absence. The very idea of Belle missing his company turned the corners of his mouth up into a smile.

He entered the small dining room Belle preferred to use and found that Belle was there waiting for him. As usual, the sight of her gentle beauty stunned him for a few moments. He couldn't help but notice how her new pink dress set off the roses in her delicate cheeks beautifully.

"Good morning," he greeted her as he sat opposite her at the table.

"Good morning," she replied cheerfully. "Did you see it snowed last night?"

"Oh, I. . .no I didn't," he admitted. How could he not have bothered to even look out a window?

"I was wondering if you would like to go for a walk with me after breakfast? It's so beautiful I just couldn't stay inside."

Belle seemed more excited than necessary about simple frozen water, but the Beast found he was more than happy to go explore the new snow with her.

The dishes served them porridge with sugar and cream. The Beast sniffed eagerly at it and, as soon as the dishes stopped moving about, he dove into the delicious warmth.

A small gasp from across the table halted his eating and he realized what a mess he was making of himself. The porridge was all over his coat, not to mention a good deal of his face and the table. Embarrassed, he looked over at Belle, but she was looking out the window. At a loss of what to do, he noticed Chip scoot a spoon towards his paw. Hesitantly, he took the tiny object and tried to feed himself with it, despite the fact that the utensil nearly disappeared in his massive paw and his mouth was not suited for such a thing. It was useless.

He was about to give up eating altogether, but when he chanced a look at Belle he noticed she was holding her bowl in her hands, daintily sipping from it. Following her lead, the Beast picked up his own bowl and silently they toasted each other. It was much easier to eat like that, not to mention less messy, and the Beast was grateful Belle had subtly given him a better way.

"I'll, uh go change before we go outside," he said when they finished eating, but it was more of a question to Belle to wait for him.

"I'll wait for you by the main door," she replied and the Beast was amazed at how well she had been able to read him. He never meant to be cryptic, but seeking the company of another person, never mind a beautiful girl like Belle, was still so new to him he wasn't entirely sure what he should and should not say.

He changed quickly into a linen shirt and his usual cloak and returned downstairs to see that Belle had donned a beautiful red cloak with white fur that lined the edges. As she pulled the hood up, he couldn't help but notice how beautifully the white fur framed her face.

"Well come on," she beckoned. "Before the snow melts!" He recognized her last remark as a joke and smiled as he joined her by the door.

"What's in the bag?" he asked, noticing a small leather bag hanging from her wrist.

"Some birdseed," she replied. "I thought we might feed the birds. Spring must be not too long off now since there's getting to be so many of them." The Beast nodded, unsure what to say, and offered her his arm so they could walk outside together. He was overjoyed that she took his arm so readily; her hand was no more than small weight on his arm but her touch filled him with a warmth he had not thought possible.

When they reached a spot on the south end of the castle near a snow-covered tree, Belle opened her bag and began scattering seeds on the ground. The Beast watched her do this curiously, never having purposely fed birds before. No sooner had Belle begun to toss the seeds onto the snow then a few birds flew down to meet them, pecking at the seeds with their tiny beaks.

It wasn't long before Belle abandoned the leather bag on a low wall, depositing the remainder of the seeds into a fold of her dress she held out for such a purpose. The Beast watched, mesmerized as tiny birds hopping willingly in the snow after the seeds. A red and a blue bird both caught hold of a seed at the same time, and he heard Belle giggle as the two tiny creatures momentarily fought over it. Apparently, this activity was enjoyable for Belle and the Beast had to admit that the little things were rather amusing.

An idea struck him; if the birds were eating so readily from the cold snow, would they instead rather to sit on his warm paws and eat? He held out his paws to Belle who obligingly filled them with a handful of the birdseed. Unsure exactly how this would work, he crouched down and thrust his cupped paws out towards the birds to show them the seeds, but they only flew a few feet away and ignored him. He tried once more, shuffling closer to them only to have them escape a little distance away again.

"Here, try this," Belle offered as she knelt beside him. She put the rest of the birdseed in his cupped paws and wordlessly directed him with her hands so his paws nearly rested on the snow's surface. Holding onto him with one hand, with her other she took a small handful and spread it out along the snow, catching the attention of a blue bird just in front of them. The bird pecked thoughtfully at the seed in the snow before seeing the mound of it in the Beast's paws. Eagerly and without any sign of fear, the bird willingly hopped onto the seed the Beast held. The Beast could not help grinning triumphantly at Belle, amazed at what they had accomplished. Their eyes met and the Beast could see how happy Belle was; it glistened in her eyes like tiny stars and he couldn't help but wonder if that joy wasn't partially because of him.

He redirected his gaze to the tiny little creature sitting so trustfully in his massive paws. It was curious that something so small would be willing to be so close to a creature like him who could so easily crush it. He would never do such a horrible thing of course, but the bird did not know that. As the trusting bird hopped around his cupped paws, he couldn't help but steal another glance at Belle. She still had not moved by his side, watching the bird with him. After a moment she stretched her hand out and the Beast watched in awe as a bird landed right on her finger as if she had called it.

As she stood to send it off again, using his arm as support to stand, he watched her go and tried to suppress the hunger he felt to be near her. He realized that then Belle had never looked at him with so much happiness as she had just moments ago. It was a different sort of joy than he had seen before. Even when he had given her the library, it was obvious that her joy had been for the room itself. But now he noticed a subtle difference in her happiness that went beyond her mere surroundings. Could it be she was happy simply with him? He dared to believe such a thing was possible.

* * *

Belle's POV

As Belle sent the beautiful bird flying to a branch in the nearby tree, she couldn't help but notice the Beast's gaze. She smiled at him and quickly dodged behind the tree, holding her hand over her suddenly wildly beating heart. She had never seen the Beast look at her in such a way, so curiously and so longingly. Could it be possible that he had grown to care for her? She twisted her hands together; the very thought of such a thing was a bit alarming, and yet a bit thrilling. Who'd have ever thought that this could be? The Beast who had been so cruel and heartless just a few weeks ago had proven himself to be so gentle and kind, capable of a tenderness she had not thought possible. True, he was not the Prince Charming of her fairy tales, but there was something in him she hadn't seen before.

Her face grew warm as she again pictured his gaze upon her. She pulled her hood down to ease the warmth and tucked a fallen piece of hair back into place.

With a deep breath, she peeked out from behind the tree, though wasn't entirely sure she could withstand another such look from the Beast. Fortunately, he was a bit preoccupied with the dozens of birds that had landed on him, all eager for the seeds in his paws. She giggled at the sight, sending the birds flying back into the air.

* * *

Beast's POV

The birds flew into the air, their many wings briefly sending his fur stirring in the small breeze they created. When they were all safely away, he looked to Belle to tell her what had just happened, amazed that so many birds had trusted him enough to choose him as their perch. Instead, he was abruptly met with a face full of snow. Surprised, he shook the snow away from his eyes to see Belle laughing behind her hands.

So, she wanted to play, did she? That was one thing the Beast knew how to do very well. With a sly grin, he bent and gathered a large armful of snow, intending to hit the tree she stood by and let the snow fall on her from above. As he raised the massive snowball over his head to throw, he was met with a second snowball to his face. Startled, he overbalanced and fell, his own snowball falling down on top of him. Belle laughed again, the sound like sweet chimes, and the Beast was provoked into a chuckle of his own. A playful growl escaped him and he got up to chase her, unsure what he would do if he caught her, but enjoying the sport all the same.

She dodged behind the tree and he followed her laughter only to be hit a third time with a ball of snow. He bent quickly to make a small snowball of his own and this time managed to hit Belle's shoulder, causing her to gasp and break into another round of giggles. They chased each other around the tree, exchanging snowballs and breathless laughter until Belle collapsed into the snow, grinning widely. The Beast joined her, plunking down in the snow and sending flakes into the air, many of which caught in Belle's hair.

"Oh!" she exclaimed in surprise at the wave of snow that suddenly found itself on her face and hair.

"Sorry," he apologized and brushed the snow gently from her hair. He paused as he realized he had not asked permission to touch her, but judging by her smile she didn't seem to mind.

"That was fun," she said as he brushed the last of the snow from her hair.

"You've got good aim," he replied, finding far too much pleasure at seeing her delicately flushed face and mussed hair.

"Thank you," she said but her words ended with a shiver.

"Let's go inside," he suggested and got to his feet, extending his paw down to Belle to help her up. They entered the castle through the nearest door, for though the birds might be welcoming spring, the winter winds refused to give up so easily. He tried to shelter her as best he could from the winds as they walked towards the castle, glad for once of his bulk. Once inside, he took her cloak for her and hung it on the waiting hook beside him. Together they settled on the rug beside the nearest fireplace to soak up its warmth. Belle was still shivering so, with her permission, the Beast sidled closer to her in the hopes his bulk and fur would quickly warm her.

"If you hand me that book on the table, I'll read for a while if you like," Belle suggested when her teeth stopped chattering, motioning to the table behind him.

"Do you have books hiding in every room now?" he asked with humor as he passed the book to her.

"Of course not. Though I'm sure I could hide several books in each of the castle's rooms without even coming close to emptying that wonderful library. I just happened to be reading in here earlier."

"I should've guessed," he nodded and motioned for her to turn her beautiful, warm gaze on the book instead of him. She obligingly opened the book and began to read as the fire warmed the winter chill.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who's been helping me with this story! It's much longer than I originally anticipated but I'm having far too much fun writing it. So keep those reviews coming!**


	14. Chapter 14

Belle's POV

As the weeks passed, Belle and the Beast fell into a comfortable routine of shared meals, walks along the grounds, and reading in the library. As Belle became absorbed in the day to day activities with the Beast, she slowly let the knowledge of the castle's enchantment slide to the back of her mind. It no longer mattered that the Beast had once been human and she no longer attempted to see him as such. The Beast was only just that: her Beast.

Each morning she found herself looking forward to seeing him, not for the sake of her own loneliness, but because it was pleasant to be with him. She enjoyed his boyish behavior towards playing in the snow or a particularly entertaining story. But the Beast just as readily showed a gentle seriousness when they would examine the stars in the night sky or Belle would tell him stories of her past. The Beast never spoke of his own past, something Belle couldn't blame him for after what happened with the piano, but she yearned to get to know him better.

He seemed so unsure of himself now that he abandoned his anger, but it was that uncertainty that Belle couldn't help but find rather endearing. She found herself seeking out the Beast more and more as the weeks passed, eager to discuss an idea she had or the chapter of the latest book they read. She avoided thinking about _why_ she sought him out, focusing only on the simple fact that she enjoyed his company.

It had snowed twice more before signs of spring overwhelmed the winter and Belle discovered a new activity within the castle: spring cleaning. The servants were in an uproar shaking out drapes, dusting away the cobwebs, and washing every surface until it gleamed. Though Belle had not noticed the gloom for some time now, it was as if a cloud had lifted off the castle and she was seeing it anew.

"Do they do this every year?" Belle asked as she walked with the Beast, a dustpan and broom scurrying across their path.

"No. This is the first time in years they've done more than just a few rooms," he admitted and Belle noticed he sounded surprised by the servants' activity.

"Have they ever done your room?" Belle dared to ask.

"No." The answer was blunt, just as Belle had predicted.

"Well, maybe it's time they did. Everyone seems to want a fresh start for spring, perhaps it would do you some good as well." The Beast glanced at her with a raised eyebrow. She had tried a similar technique to get him to celebrate Christmas and she could see the Beast had realized that. _It had worked, hadn't it?_ She reasoned with herself. _After a while, anyway._

"I don't think that's a good idea," he said hesitantly. "It's been a long time."

"All the more reason to do it," she pressed. The Beast had become better than what the West Wing portrayed him to be. It was time he believed that, and if she had to tell him to make him see it, then that's what she would do. "The room that I saw belongs to something you aren't anymore. But how can you see that for yourself unless you look for what's underneath?"

The Beast looked startled by her words and was silent for a long minute. Belle was so afraid that he would take what she said the wrong way, find some sort of insult where there was none. "You really believe that?" he said finally, halting their walk to look at her.

"Yes, I do," she confirmed, returning his disbelieving gaze steadily.

"All right," he sighed, his breath coming in a puff of defeat. "I'll give them permission to clean it out."

"I think you'll like how it comes out," she assured him. "Would you like to meet in the library in a little while?"

"Uh, sure. I'll meet you there." Belle watched him walk in the direction of the West Wing, knowing this was a good thing for him to do. The Beast had changed so much; the room of scattered bones and broken furniture was the reflection of an animal, not of her Beast.

* * *

"Mrs. Potts almost didn't believe me," the Beast said as he joined her at one of the tables in the library a short time later. "I had repeat myself three times." Belle laughed at this news, trying to picture the teapot's face when she finally gained permission to clean that mess of a room. It must have been a sore spot for the tidy teapot. Not to mention Cogsworth, as a seneschal or steward of sorts, must have been up in arms about the mess of the West Wing.

"What did you want to read today?" he continued, glancing around for a book on the table they might read.

"I'm not sure," she said honestly. "We've gone through the pile you helped me separate."

"Already?" he asked and Belle giggled at his surprise. "How is that possible?"

"A good book disappears quickly, doesn't it?" she replied and the Beast nodded, still in clear astonishment. "Is there one you would like to read again, or should we find a new one?"

"I think I'd like to find a new one," he decided. "You've got plenty to choose from, after all." Belle looked around at the hundreds of shelves that surrounded them, wondering where to start.

"Will you help me again?" she requested.

"If you like," he agreed and followed her once again amongst the shelves. It wasn't long before they had a proper pile once again. This time Belle found Shakespeare's works and picked out her favorites, among them was _Romeo and Juliet_. Though logically she thought the young love struck pair were rather silly, she couldn't help but get caught up in their story.

"Let's read this one first," she suggested, holding up _Romeo and Juliet_.

"Very well," the Beast agreed and settled in to listen.

* * *

Beast's POV

He listened intently to the tale of two young people, doomed from the beginning by their feuding families. It was a sad tale, to be sure, but he couldn't help but become as engrossed with this story as he had with all the others. He did very much enjoy the swordfights, but he was equally transfixed by Romeo and Juliet's love affair. It was with disappointment then that he discovered it was a much shorter tale than the others and was over far too quickly.

"Could you read it again?" he requested as Belle closed the book.

"Did you like it?" she asked, though by her smile it seemed she already knew the answer.

"Yes, but it was much too short. And very sad."

"Shakespeare did write a lot of sad tales," she sighed. "But they're all such wonderful stories." The Beast gently took the book from Belle's hands and idly examined the cover while running the story through his head again, wondering if anything could be as sad as those two, how was it put, "star-crossed lovers."

"Would you like to try to read it to me?" Belle suggested, her tone cautious.

"Oh, uh, I don't know. . ." The very idea of it terrified him. He didn't like to deny Belle anything, but this seemed like an unachievable task, even more so than the dark day she asked him to play the piano.

"I'll help you," she offered and slid her chair closer to him so they might look at the book together. Her fearless presence was enough to make him pause, during which Belle took the opportunity to open the book to the first page. "Let's start here," she said, pointing to the first words.

Hesitantly, the Beast picked out the letters of the first word and tried to recall his lessons so long ago. _T—W—O—_"Tuough?" he started shakily.

"Two," Belle corrected gently.

"Oh, I see," And he truly did, which gave him enough confidence to keep going. Slowly his childhood lessons came back to him as he read for Belle. Though he stammered and mispronounced words many times, he made it through first the page, then the first scene, and at last finished the first act.

It was difficult to want to stop then. Between Belle's nearness and his own pride at reading so well, as far as he was concerned the afternoon was one of perfection.

"You did wonderfully!" Belle praised him when he finished the first act. "And you said you couldn't read," she scolded merrily, her smile ruining any attempt to seem cross.

"I guess I forgot that I could," he admitted, his pride growing with Belle's compliment. He was glad Belle had been there to help him, for he never in his life would have attempted such a thing on his own. It was comforting to have her sit so close beside him and he found himself eager to remain beside her. He wanted to be by her side always.

"Would you like to keep going?" he offered, thinking that would keep her close to him for at least another hour if nothing else.

"Yes, but I would like to ask you something first," Belle said and to the Beast's surprise she looked nervous. Belle was rarely nervous in front of him; she was always the calm one who handled every situation with grace. But he could see that her hands were now visibly shaking.

"What's that?" he asked tentatively, unsure what she would ask him to do now that would make her so nervous.

"Would you have dinner with me tonight?"

"Don't we usually?" He was confused. They had shared nearly every meal for the past several weeks, hadn't they?

"Yes, but. . .I found this gorgeous golden yellow ball gown and I—I would love the excuse to wear it. . ." It sounded as if she wanted to say more, but she left her sentence unfinished.

"Oh, you mean a _nice_ dinner," he figured out, remembering that a formal dress meant a more formal evening. He thought of himself stuffed inside a restraining suit and refrained a grimace, but he could see how excited Belle was at the very idea of a formal evening with him. "Oh—oh yes!" he agreed happily and was rewarded by seeing her joy redoubled.

"Would you like to finish the next act?" she asked through a wide smile. "Then I'll go get ready for tonight." He nodded his consent and tried to calm his suddenly wildly beating heart. Why had Belle suddenly wanted to spend such a night with him? Was it truly because of her discovery of this golden dress, or was there something else? Whatever the reason, it was the Beast's turn to become nervous, causing him to stumble over the words worse than before. But Belle was patient as always and helped him along.

When he finished, though it was still hours before dinner, Belle went to get ready for that night.

"I'll see you soon," she promised with a smile that sent his heart soaring as she vanished behind the library doors into the hall. The Beast sat stunned for a moment, wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into. Realizing at once that he probably needed this time to prepare himself as well, he jumped from the seat as if shocked and dashed to the West Wing.

"Lumiere!" he shouted as he went. "Cogsworth!" If he was going to make any sort of impression on Belle tonight, he would need their help.

He burst through the doors of the West Wing to wait for Lumiere and Cogsworth to make their way to him, but paused in shock. At first he thought he had walked into the wrong room, but the glowing rose at the far end proved to him that this glistening, tidy room was his own.

The Beast momentarily forgot his panic over dinner to take in his new surroundings. Gone were the bones of the animals he hunted in his youth. The cobwebs had been wiped away, the floors and windows washed. The servants had replaced the drapes and rugs he had torn to shreds. Even his bed, which he had diminished to little more than a nest of rags and feathers, had been replaced with a handsome frame and mattress.

The Beast straightened up unconsciously and couldn't help the sense of pleasure that grew in his chest. This was the room of a prince, not a monster. This was what Belle meant when she said that the room he had did not belong to him. She was right; he was not a monster anymore.

"Master?" The Beast turned to see both Lumiere and Cogsworth standing at the threshold of the West Wing. They looked nervous, as if anticipating his anger as the state of his room, but he didn't have time to reassure them.

"Belle wants to have dinner," he explained hastily, excitement welling in his chest once again. "She found my mother's yellow ball gown and wants to wear it tonight."

"And you're _allowing_ her to, Master?" Cogsworth asked. The Beast frowned momentarily at Cogsworth's tone, as if Belle was not worthy of such a dress.

"Why not? Mother never wanted it, after all. She always said the color of the dress was too close to her the shade of her hair. But can you imagine how beautiful Belle's going to look in it?" If he was paying more attention, the Beast would have seen Lumiere and Cogsworth exchange meaningful glances at the Beast's last words, but he had begun looking through the new wardrobes in his room for something to wear and did not see.

"So you want to wear something formal as well," Cogsworth deduced, but the Beast sighed in frustration.

"More than that," he insisted. "This night has to be special. Belle wants a formal dinner, but I want to give her more. Something she won't forget." He halted his search of the wardrobes and pictured Belle's glorious smile, the special one that she reserved only for him. He would give the world to have her smile at him like that again tonight.

"Fear not, Master," Lumiere announced. "I shall take care of all the arrangements. Cogsworth, mon ami, get a bath prepared for the Master at once! I shall return in but a moment." The Beast watched Lumiere hop out of sight and wondered what he might be cooking up. Lumiere had a knack for romance, so the Beast was sure whatever Lumiere did was bound to be marvelous. All the Beast had to do now was find the courage to face the night ahead of him.


	15. Chapter 15

Belle's POV

Belle sat at the vanity in her room, nervously fiddling with her hair while trying to take direction from Madame Armoire. She didn't have much practice in styling her hair beyond her usual low ponytail and she depended on Madame Armoire's more experienced opinion to help her.

"I don't know," she said uncertainly, examining her hair in the mirror. Half of her hair was piled elegantly behind her head, leaving the rest to flow loose onto her shoulders. "It's not what I'm used to."

"But that's the _point_, dearie!" Madame Armoire insisted. "This is not a night to play it safe." _Play it safe_? Belle repeated in her mind. Before she could ask what Madame Armoire meant, Mrs. Potts spoke.

"I agree. I think it looks lovely," Mrs. Potts added, smiling kindly up at her. "We've got to get a move on if you're going to get to dinner in time." Belle nodded, taking once last uncertain glance at her hair before moving to stand before the gorgeous dress that was spread across her bed.

She ran her hand across the golden silk and smiled at its beauty, excited at the prospect of wearing such a thing for the first time in her life. Before she could put it on, however, there was a light knock on the door. Belle opened the door to let Lumiere hop inside the room.

"I have come to tell you the Master will meet you at the grand staircase by the ballroom tonight," he said grandly, bowing to her.

"Oh, there's—all right," she said unsteadily, caught off guard at this new information. "I'll be ready soon." Lumiere left with a grin, no doubt to return to the Beast with this information. _Of course there would be a ballroom in a castle,_ she told herself as she turned back to the dress. But she couldn't help the excitement she felt at the idea of wearing the gorgeous gown in a real ballroom, almost as if she was a princess. She laughed, realizing she sounded like a child.

"What's that, dear?" Madame Armoire asked curiously.

"Nothing, I just didn't know there was a ballroom here," she said, keeping her childish thoughts to herself. Belle finished getting ready, finally donning the beautiful dress, her heart inexplicably racing with excitement as she did.

"Oh, Belle," Mrs. Potts sighed. "You look so beautiful."

"Really?" she asked and examined herself in the mirror. She couldn't deny that the dress itself was certainly magnificent, but she felt slightly out of place. The dress was too grand for someone as low born as herself. But she reminded herself that this was simply dinner with the Beast, not an official ball where real courtiers might scoff behind their hands. The Beast would never laugh at her.

At bit more at ease with that knowledge, she slipped on the elbow-length gloves and declared herself ready. She opened the door to make her way down to the ballroom, but paused as she noticed Cogsworth standing in the hall. "Cogsworth?" she said, curious as to why he was waiting outside her door.

"Oh, Belle! Goodness me, you look lovely! I was just coming to ask when you would be ready, which you obviously are. I shall inform the Master." And without another word, Belle watched as Cogsworth waddled down the hall as quickly as he could manage.

"Excitable fellow, isn't he?" Mrs. Potts remarked as they watched Cogsworth. "Come along, then. Madame Armoire and I will show you the way."

"You're coming too?" Belle asked the wardrobe in surprise. To the best of her knowledge, Madame Armoire had never left the room, always complaining it was too difficult to navigate the doors with her girth.

"Oh yes of course, dearie!" she exclaimed in her usual boisterous tone. "I wouldn't miss this for the world!" So Belle obligingly opened both of her bedroom doors to accommodate the wardrobe and together the three of them made their way down the hall. Belle spent a few steps adjusting to the weight and bulk of the dress, but it wasn't long before she found her stride again. It was the bubble of excitement and fear in her stomach that she found harder to control.

As they approached a door Belle had never seen before, Belle's heart started to pound. What if the Beast decided not to come to this ridiculous dinner she had proposed? What if something went wrong and he ran from her? He hadn't done such a thing since the day he played the piano, but what if this upset him, too? But she watched as a betraying hand reached for the door handle and knew there was no going back.

* * *

Beast's POV

He had been successfully groomed and stuffed into a fine suit for the night's dinner. It was a handsome suit, comprised of a deep blue coat with gold trim and black trousers. Cogsworth and Lumiere both said how magnificent he looked, but the Beast couldn't help but feel a bit foolish in such formal clothes as the creature he was. He only hoped Belle would be able to overlook that so he wouldn't spoil her evening.

Lumiere had told him what he had prepared for that night: music, romantic candlelight. All so that he could confess. . .well at least try to say to Belle what was in his heart, what he knew to be true.

_Bold, daring_, he repeated Lumiere's words to himself over and over as he walked towards the grand staircase where he and Belle were to meet. The words were enough to get him through the door, kept him standing upright while he waited for Belle to appear at the door opposite him as Lumiere promised she would. But as the door gently swung open, the steadying words all but flew from his mind as he saw what now stood before him.


	16. Chapter 16

Beast's POV

The Beast could only watch as Belle walked down the staircase, the golden dress shimmering in the light. Never had he seen anything look so beautiful as Belle as she ran her hand delicately along the banister while descending the stairs to the first landing. His breath caught in his throat and he was too stunned to move. The shade of the dress perfectly set off her brown hair as it had never done for his mother. He noticed that much of her hair was lose, free to fall across bare, porcelain shoulders. She was a vision, an angel right there in front of him.

A waving flame beside him drew his attention to his left where Lumiere was eagerly motioning for him to move. All too aware now that he had been staring at Belle open mouthed, he cleared his throat and nervously adjusted his coat before descending the stairs to meet the beautiful angel, all the while praying he wouldn't trip.

As he drew level with Belle, he couldn't help but beam at her. She was so overwhelmingly beautiful, but as he looked into her eyes he knew this angel was still his Belle, his gentle, patient companion. She smiled up at him, her eyes dancing with evident joy and excitement and his heart soared. Knowing what was right to begin this formal evening, the Beast bowed to the beautiful woman and saw her curtsy elegantly in return, the folds of her dress glinting up at him.

They straightened, and the Beast offered her his arm to escort her down the remaining stairs to dinner. Sultan, that foolish footstool pup, ran up the steps to meet them and for a moment the Beast was worried the evening was ruined before it had begun. But Belle merely sidestepped it, never breaking contact with his arm, and returned her gaze to him with a dazzling smile.

The Beast escorted Belle to her seat at the end of a perfectly set, if a bit long, dining table and turned to his own seat at the opposite end. The table was too long to allow for comfortable conversation, but the Beast was far too nervous to talk much anyway. They ate their meal, the Beast careful to eat with his utensils successfully for the first time. He may have slurped a bit, but he didn't spill anything. Belle looked up from her own meal to smile at him, acknowledging his accomplishment.

The coat rack, the old butler, who had been playing violin for them in the corner of the room suddenly drew Belle's attention. She watched him for a moment before returning her gaze to the Beast and stood from her chair to make her way over to him. _What's she doing?_ he thought as she approached him, her expression one of excitement. Quickly he wiped his face with his napkin, unsure of what Belle's intentions were but certain he did not want anything on his face.

"Dance with me?" she requested, her gloved hands held out to him.

"Oh. . .I don't. . .that is. . ." he stammered, but he saw Lumiere and Cogsworth wave him forward and he took Belle's outstretched hands nervously. He hadn't danced in years, and frankly wasn't that skilled at it even then. What if he trod on her foot? With his weight he would probably break her toes. But he allowed her hands to draw him out of his chair and he obligingly led her towards the ballroom.

She turned to face him and he felt his face grow hot, realizing that to dance with Belle meant to hold her in his arms. He started to panic, his hands shook uncontrollably, but Belle only smiled that beautiful, understanding smile of hers and directed him. She took one massive paw in her right hand and guided his other paw to wrap around her waist. He gulped as his paws made contact with the golden silk and Belle drew herself closer to place her left hand on the arm holding her waist.

She guided him through the first steps and the Beast concentrated on not stepping on her delicate feet, his tongue sticking out briefly at the corner of his mouth in his efforts. But it didn't take long before he grew comfortable with the steps and was able to look up from their feet. He was surprise to see Belle watching him, her warm gaze washing over him and dismissing his remaining nerves. His confidence growing, the Beast caught a better grip on Belle's hand and sent them whirling around the ballroom. He had great fun guiding them in circles, extending his arm to see Belle twirl, the full skirt following to wrap around her legs only for it to fan out again as she returned to his arms.

The music slowed, allowing them both to catch their breath. The Beast couldn't help but gaze at Belle, overjoyed to have her in his arms, to be able to make her so happy. He smiled at her, unable to suppress his joy and was rewarded by her own brilliant smile, the special, blissful one she reserved for him.

He was caught by surprise, though, when Belle leaned forward and rested her head on his chest. He hoped she couldn't hear how fast his heart began beating as he led their steps and couldn't resist looking triumphantly up at Cogsworth and Lumiere. If Belle could be so comfortable as to perform such a tender act, then perhaps. . .

He dared not even think it and quickly returned his thoughts to the present where he held Belle blissfully in his arms. A few final twirls ended their dance and the Beast led Belle out the glass doors to the balcony. His heart began racing anew, knowing that this was the moment he was waiting for. Here, beneath the stars, was where he would finally confess all that was in his heart to Belle.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle couldn't remember ever having a more wonderful night than the one she was sharing with the Beast. She new he was uncomfortable at first when she asked him to dance, but she couldn't resist, not with the knowledge that there was a ballroom just waiting for them. And, truthfully, a not-so-small piece of her wanted the feel of his arms around her. She couldn't help the tender thoughts of the Beast as they danced, silently remarking how delicately he held her, how beautiful his blue eyes were, and how safe she felt in his arms.

As the Beast led her out onto the balcony, she barely noticed the stars above them, finding it difficult to tear her eyes away from her Beast. Her beautiful, wonderful Beast who had done so much for her and yet had somehow taught her so much. She sat on the short wall of the balcony, suddenly shy in his presence and began fiddling with her skirt. The Beast joined her on the wall, but remained silent. She tried to think of something to say, a remark on the night perhaps, but nothing came to her.

"Belle?" the Beast began and slid closer to her, taking her hands in his paws. She smiled at him, relieved that he had broken the silence. "Are you happy here with me?"

She was a bit surprised at the directness of his question, but lost no time in replying. "Yes," she said easily. How could she be anything else with him? Except, she couldn't help but think of her father, alone in their cottage while she was here living in a dream.

"What is it?" the Beast's voice rumbled gently, filled with concern at her sudden silence. Belle was unwilling to ruin such an amazing night with her worry, but the Beast's eyes were filled with distress she couldn't help but tell him.

"If only I could see my father again, just for a moment. I miss him so much," she confessed sadly, knowing it was impossible.

"There is a way." Belle's head shot up at his words. What did he mean by that? Without a word, the Beast drew her up and led her to the West Wing. Belle spared a thought for how much the room had changed since her one and only visit, but was much more concerned with what the Beast had in mind concerning her father. He led her all the way to the glowing rose and held up a mirror that lay on the table beside it.

"This mirror will show you anything. Anything you wish to see," he said as he passed the beautifully ornate hand mirror to her. Belle glanced from him to the mirror uncertainly and raised it level with her face.

"I'd like to see my father, please," she said haltingly. For a moment, she only saw her own reflection, but then the mirror glowed with a green light, forcing her to close her eyes against its brightness for a moment. When she looked back, she saw the forest in the mirror's image and a figure stumbling through the trees.

"Papa! Oh, no!" she cried, watching him limp through the forest until he fell into one of the few remaining patches of snow, coughing weakly.

"What is it?" the Beast asked.

"He's sick! He may be dying and he's all alone!" she moaned helplessly. It tore her heart to see her father like that, if indeed this strange mirror showed the truth. But what could she do to help him?

* * *

Beast's POV

He watched as Belle's face twisted to one of horror as the mirror showed her father. He knew it was destroying her to see her father in such a state and he realized what had to be done.

"Then y-you must go to him," he said, leaning on the table that held the glowing rose. There were so few petals remaining; if Belle left now, there was no way she would return in time to save him, even if she wanted to come back.

"What did you say?" she asked in disbelief.

"I release you. You are no longer my prisoner." His tried to keep his voice steady and formal, releasing her from any bond she felt by her promise.

"You mean, I'm free?" he heard her ask and he flinched at the words.

"Yes," he replied, his voice cracking with emotion. If she still believed herself a prisoner after all this time, perhaps it was for the best that she left.

"Oh, thank you!" she said, placing her hand on his paw briefly before returning to the mirror. "Hold on, Papa. I'm on my way." She turned to give the mirror back to him, but he held his hands up to refuse it.

"Take it with you," he begged. "So you'll always have a way to look back and remember me." As he spoke he dared to reach up and gently run his paw through her silken hair as he had been longing to all night. His heart was breaking as he spoke, but he could not keep her there, not when her father was in danger. It comforted him to think she might use the mirror to look on him every once in a while. It was a small comfort now, but it was all he had.

"Thank you for understanding how much he needs me," she said and he could see in her beautiful brown eyes how grateful she was to him. _I need you too_, he wanted to say as she started to walk away. He hung his head in despair, but was surprised to feel her gloved hand rest on his cheek, gently drawing his face up so she might look into his eyes once more. She smiled sadly at him before retreating at last down the hall. He extended one paw as if to stop her, but knew he had to let her go. All he could do now was turn away and listen to her fading footsteps, knowing he would never see her again.

"Well, well, your highness," Cogsworth said triumphantly behind him. The Beast blanched, unwilling to discuss the night's heartbreaking events. "I must say everything is going just swimmingly. I knew you had it in you!"

"I let her go," he informed Cogsworth sadly, not moving from where he stood over the steadily wilting rose.

"Yes, yes, splen—you what? How could you do that?" Cogsworth sounded shocked and the Beast sighed, knowing he would never understand.

"I had to," he explained simply, wishing to be left alone.

"Yes, but—but why?"

"Because, I love her." The words he had longed to say to Belle finally spilled passed his lips, but it was too late. His Belle was gone forever and his heart was shattered. He listened as Cogsworth closed the door on his way out, doubtless to tell the others what had happened.

Once the door was safely closed, the Beast allowed a tear to escape him, making its steady way down the cheek Belle had so recently caressed. The pain in his chest was unbearable, his own sorrow threatening to tear him apart. Not knowing what else to do, he stumbled to the balcony in time to watch Belle gallop away from him on her horse. As she disappeared into the trees for the last time, the Beast threw his head back and roared in agony.


	17. Chapter 17

**Upcoming scenes in this chapter are a bit heavy in movie dialogue, so just restating. . .I do not own Beauty and the Beast.**

Belle's POV

Belle flew back to her room, lifting the skirt of the beautiful golden dress to keep it from catching her ankles. She had no wish to leave the Beast, but her father needed her. Perhaps she could come back when she could be sure her father was well again. The thought of it eased her mind, but somehow it wasn't enough.

"Belle, what's going on?" Madam Armoire asked as Belle burst into the room and started pulling off her gloves. "Didn't you have a nice night?"

Belle paused in her frantic attempts to undo the bindings of the dress to look at the wardrobe, knowing time was precious but needing her to understand. "Tonight was the most wonderful night I've ever had," she said truthfully. "But the Beast's mirror showed me that my father's in trouble. I have to go find him before it's too late." She resumed undressing, careful not to ruin the gorgeous gown as she lay it across the bed once more. Belle donned her familiar blue dress, feeling the magic of the night leaving her as she did.

"But you can't leave now!" Madame Armoire protested.

"I have to. I'm so sorry," she said as she grabbed a satchel to carry the mirror in, leaving it on the floor while she fetched her hair ribbon and her shoes. "You were all so kind to me, but Papa might be dying! I'll come back if I can, I promise." She secured her hair ribbon, picked up the satchel, and after one last look around her room, bolted down to the stables to find Philippe.

In moments she had him saddled and was riding him out of the castle gates. Behind her, she heard the Beast's roar echo in the night and she couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes, flying past her as she sped towards the forest. She regretted her words in the West Wing when the Beast said she was no longer his prisoner. She knew she was not forcibly kept there, knew that the Beast would have let her leave if she chose, but she was so startled to hear him telling her to go. _I'll apologize when I come back_, she assured herself and forced herself to concentrate finding her father.

Unsure where to look, she headed in the direction of the village, hoping to come across footprints in the snow patches that would guide her to him. The longer it took, the faster her heart beat in terror, knowing that the time she spent looking could be precious moments in her father's life.

"Papa!" she called into the trees, hoping no wolves would hear her. Now that spring was here, food would be less scarce for those vicious creatures and hopefully leave her and her father alone.

An hour or so later, Belle finally spotted human tracks in the snow. She followed them and gasped when she saw her father sprawled on the forest floor, just as the mirror had shown.

"Papa!" she screamed and dove off Philippe to kneel at his side. He was breathing, to her immense relief, but his skin was hot with fever. "Papa?" she called gently, shaking his shoulder to rouse him. He moaned and shifted and Belle sighed in relief at the movement, little though it might be.

Standing, she led Philippe close to her father's side and bid the horse to kneel. She managed to rouse her father enough to coax him onto the horse's back. Philippe stood easily and Belle lightly vaulted up to sit in the saddle behind her father, holding the reins on either side of his body to keep him from sliding off.

Belle toyed with the idea of returning to the castle with her father and taking care of him there. But she knew the village was much closer to them now than the castle was, and she needed to get her father warmed up as soon as she could. It was still with a heavy heart that she turned Philippe towards the village, wishing vainly that her father had made it just a bit closer to the castle to justify going back.

It took an hour of careful riding for them to come in sight of their cottage. How small and empty it seemed to her now, as if it no longer belonged to her. She slid off the horse and helped her father do the same. Fortunately he was conscious enough to walk inside under Belle's support. Once inside, she removed her father's damp clothes and slid his nightshirt over his head.

"Rest, Papa," she said softly as she put him to bed. She wasn't sure if he heard her, but he was able to climb under the covers. Before he lapsed into complete unconsciousness again, she gave him something to drink and saw that he was warm.

Belle drew a chair by his bedside, putting cool clothes on his forehead while he slept and trying not to remember how the Beast had done the same for her when she had been so ill.

It was starting to get late before her father finally woke. Belle was just thinking longingly for her own bed when her father moaned her name and his eyes flickered open.

"Shh. It's all right, Papa. I'm home," she reassured him, so relieved to see him finally awake and aware of his surroundings, but surprised to discover that what she said was a lie. This place was no longer her home; her home was elsewhere, hidden deep in the forest.

"I thought I'd never see you again!" Maurice exclaimed and sat up to embrace his daughter.

"I missed you so much," Belle said, returning the embrace eagerly. She was so glad to see her father again, alive and well. Nearly well, anyway. His forehead still burned with fever and his cough had not yet gone, but he was alive. Everything else could be dealt with.

"But the Beast!" Maurice demanded and gently pushed her away. "How did you escape?"

Belle sighed, knowing this would be difficult to explain. "I didn't escape, Papa. He let me go."

"That horrible Beast?" Maurice shook his head in disbelief.

"But he's different now, Papa," she insisted. "He's changed somehow. I know it's hard to believe, but he's not the same beast who locked you in the dungeon. He's good and kind, and so unsure of himself." Her mind drifted to just a few hours ago when she had reminded the Beast how to dance. His paws had been shaking, but he had followed her lead just the same.

She couldn't help but recall those wonderful moments spent dancing with the Beast, her heart fluttering as she remembered the feel of his hand around her waist. Belle felt a blush creep into her cheeks as she recalled her spontaneous act of placing her head on his chest as they danced. It had felt so right, so comfortable leaning into his embrace, his heart beating gently in her ear. She would give the world to return to that perfect moment.

"Everything seems to have changed here, too," she added, coming out of her thoughts to look around the familiar cottage that no longer fulfilled her longings of home. "It's as if. . .as if my childhood dreams are no longer what I want."

"It seems to me, Belle," Maurice said, giving her a knowing smile. "That there's been a bit of a change in you, too. You've always been a dreamy thing, even as a child, but now there's a new light in your eyes, as if you've found what you're looking for. If this Beast is really who you say he is, I suppose I'll believe you. I don't understand it, but you've never been wrong before about these sorts of things."

Belle smiled at her father, not sure what he meant by finding what she was looking for, but glad he accepted her defense of the Beast. She was actually surprised she won him over so easily, knowing what the Beast had done to him, but she wasn't about to argue. Before either of them could say another word, a strange rustling came from the satchel Belle had placed at the end of her father's bed. They watched it move and wiggle until it tipped over and burst open, spilling out the magic mirror and Chip along with it.

"Hi!" the little teacup exclaimed once he stopped spinning.

"Oh, a stowaway," Belle laughed as Chip bounced his way up the bed and into Maurice's hands. She was concerned about what Mrs. Potts would do when she saw her son was missing, but Belle couldn't help but think of Chip's presence as the perfect excuse to return to the castle soon.

"Why hello there, little fella. Didn't think I'd see you again," Maurice chuckled. The teacup smiled, but soon put on a very serious face and turned towards Belle. She tried to restrain her laughter since it was evident Chip was trying to look dignified, but it was hard to take the teacup's expression seriously. That is, until he began to speak.

"Belle, why'd you go away? Don't you like us anymore?" Any semblance of a smile was wiped from Belle's face as she tried to think of a response the teacup would understand.

"Oh, Chip, of course I do. It's just that. . ." She was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Now who could that be at this hour?" she wondered out loud. "Stay inside, you two. Especially you, Chip," she directed, terrified what might happen if he was discovered. Chip nodded and hopped onto the nightstand to hide behind the lamp.

Convinced he was out of sight, Belle rose and opened the door to see Monsieur D'Arque standing on the other side. Confused at what this could mean, she tried to keep her voice steady. "May I help you?"

"I've come to collect your father," Monsieur D'Arque informed her easily, as if her father were no more than a rug being taken away.

"My father?" she demanded. What would the owner of the asylum want with her father?

"Don't worry, mademoiselle," he said smoothly sounding more menacing than reassuring. "We'll take good care of him." He moved to motion to a crude, enclosed cart behind him with bars on its windows and doors. Surrounding the cart were many of the villagers, holding torches aloft to illuminate her property with an eerie glow.

"My father's not crazy!" she said angrily, her hands balling into fists in her rage. How dare these villagers come to threaten her and her father! What was the meaning of all this?

"He was raving like a lunatic," Le Fou put in from where he stood at the base of the steps. "We all heard him, didn't we?" His question drew resounding cheers of assent from the crowd and Belle realized what must have happened. Her father probably returned to the village thinking she was locked in the dungeon of a monster's castle. He wanted to save her, but when he inevitably described the Beast. . .well what simple-minded villager could believe such a thing without proof?

"No," she said, waving away the men from the asylum who approached the house. "I won't let you!"

"Belle?" she heard her father's voice call from the doorway and Belle inwardly groaned, wishing her father would have listened to her and stayed out of sight.

"Maurice!" Le Fou greeted him slyly. "Tell us again, old man. Just how big was the beast?" Belle went to her father's side, glaring at Le Fou for the injustice he was doing.

"Well, he was—he was enormous!" Maurice said. "I'd say at least eight, no, more like ten feet!" Belle knew that what he said was true, but it wasn't going to keep him from being dragged away by the mob. As she predicted, the mob laughed and D'Arque motioned for his men to take her father away.

"No!" she cried and grabbed hold of D'Arque's arm. "You can't do this!" He made no reply, only jerked his arm out of her grip and walked towards his wagon where her father was being forcibly carried.

"Poor Belle. It's a shame about your father," a familiar voice said from behind her. Gaston! She and Gaston had never been on the best of terms, but surely he would do something to stop this madness.

"You know he's not crazy, Gaston," she said, clinging to him in desperation. He was her only hope of stopping the mob from taking her father away.

"I might be able to clear up this little misunderstanding," he said nonchalantly, then looked at her meaningfully. "_If_. . ."

"If what?" Belle asked, not sure she liked the way this conversation was going.

"If you marry me," Gaston said simply.

"What?" Belle was disgusted. It was blackmail! He would try to force her to marry him to save her father?

"One little word, Belle. That's all it takes," he cooed, pulling her close to him and bending so their faces were level. His breath reeked of beer and she did not bother to hide her disgust.

"Never," she said, pushing away from him with all the strength she could muster.

"Have it your way," Gaston said carelessly, motioning one hand towards the wagon her father was being forced into.

Frantically, she sought for a way to save her father, to stop this injustice, to get the villagers to leave them alone. The mirror! She dove back inside and grabbed hold of the magic mirror.

"My father's not crazy and I can prove it!" she called to the crowd. "Show me the Beast!" she asked the mirror and turned its face to shine upon the mob. The villagers gasped and screamed, one woman even fainted, but Belle could only hear the Beast's miserable roars coming from the mirror. He was in such pain, pain that she had caused.

"Is it dangerous?" someone called out.

"Oh no! No he'd never hurt anyone!" she insisted, climbing back down the stairs to talk to the mob. "Please, I know he looks vicious, but he's really kind and gentle." She turned her gaze back to the mirror, looking upon the Beast's image fondly as she spoke. "He's my friend." Her own words sounded false in her ears, as if 'friend' were not enough to describe what the Beast was to her. Before she could properly name it, however, Gaston grabbed hold of her shoulders and turned her to face him.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you had _feelings _for this monster," he scoffed and Belle thought for an instant she saw jealousy in his eyes.

"He's not the monster, Gaston, _you_ are," she spat angrily and backed out of his reach. Gaston's blue eyes gleamed with fury, cold and unfeeling where the Beast's were gentle and deep. He pulled his hand back as if to slap her and she stood fast, but a gasp from the mob brought to his eyes the realization that if he hit her now, Gaston would ruin the high regard he had from the village.

"She's as crazy as the old man!" Gaston announced to the mob, forcing the mirror from Belle's hands. It was in that moment Belle realized what she had done. She had shown a skilled hunter, an arrogant, dangerous man, the ultimate prey. She had just sacrificed the Beast's safety to save her own father!

As Gaston moved about the crowd, showing the Beast's image to everyone he passed and telling monstrous lies about him, Belle tried to console the crowd. She insisted that the Beast was kind, that no harm would come to any of them, but Gaston's popularity and her reputation as being odd ensured that her voice was drowned out as Gaston called for the Beast's head.

"No! I won't let you do this!" she said, taking hold of Gaston's hand and trying to pry his fingers off the mirror. He took hold of her wrist and pulled her off as if she were no more than a rag doll. Belle struggled against his fingers, but his grip was like iron and would not budge.

"You're not with us, you're against us," he said, his eyes gleaming with anger and the thrill of the hunt Belle had unknowingly provided him. "Bring the old man!" Gaston forced Belle unceremoniously into the cellar after her father was tossed in, closing and locking the cellar door. Belle tried to force the doors open, but it was useless. She could only listen as the sounds of the angry mob drew further and further away, doubtless to find the castle and her Beast. They were going to kill him, and it was all her fault.

* * *

**All right, so this one's a bit more scripted than I would like, but I promise there's some original/extended scenes coming up! **


	18. Chapter 18

Beast's POV

The Beast turned to look out at the forest again, gasping heavily from his fit of agony-driven rage. The clean, elegant room was not fit for a beast, which was all he had become now; it was all he had left. Now the broken furniture and torn drapes mirrored his shattered, beastly heart once more. The suit he wore that evening lay in tatters in a corner and he had replaced it with his old trousers and cloak, knowing he was fit for little else now. But some part of himself convinced him to also put on the white linen shirt, keeping some part of his humanity in place even now.

As he caught his breath, the angry despair began to wash away, leaving him only with crippling sorrow. It was with disinterest, therefore, that he watched as a mysterious glow amongst the trees grew closer and closer to the castle. For a moment, he dared to hope it was Belle returning to him, but the glow was far too large to be from a single torch.

A few more minutes proved him right; it was the light of many torches, carried aloft by dozens of men marching towards the castle. He could hear their shouts from his elevated position in the West Wing and knew they had come to kill him. He didn't know where they came from or why they had chosen this night to come, nor did he care, but he welcomed their endeavor to murder a beast.

He turned his back on the approaching mob to watch over the enchanted rose and sighed heavily. He was at peace, indeed almost grateful, with the knowledge that he would die soon at the hands of these unknown men. There was nothing for him in this world now that Belle had left him to his doom; he only hoped the men wouldn't harm his servants.

Soon, a series of thuds echoed through the castle as the men tried to beat down the door. He prayed for them to hurry; there were only a few petals left on the rose and he didn't think he could bear to watch the last one fall.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle flew through the forest on Philippe, pushing her horse as fast as she dare. If only her father hadn't come with her; he was still so ill, this trip would surely only make it worse. And he was an added weight which slowed them down on a night where speed was everything. He had insisted on coming along, though, and Belle didn't have the heart to part from her father again. She was glad, at least, of her father's habit to keep a spare set of clothes in the cellar, normally used to replace those he ripped or burned while working on his inventions. His nightshirt would have given little protection from the still chilly night air, but with his clothes at least he would remain somewhat warm and keep him from becoming more ill.

She coaxed Philippe into going faster, careful to keep her father upright in the saddle and the satchel which contained Chip from bouncing too harshly against her father's side. That brave little teacup; he was so clever to have used her father's invention to break them out of the cellar. She would have to remember to praise him later, once this madness was over with.

* * *

Beast's POV

It had begun to thunder, the rain pouring down in sheets. Bleak weather for his broken heart. The Beast paid little attention to it, though, watching as yet another petal fell from that terrible rose. The petals were falling faster now; time was running short.

"Pardon me, master," Mrs. Potts' voice echoed through the mess he had again created of the West Wing.

"Leave me in peace," he moaned, gazing at the last petals clinging to the rose's stem.

"But sir, the castle is under attack!" she pleaded with him.

"It doesn't matter now. Just let them come." He delicately placed a paw on the bell jar that protected the rose, knowing nothing mattered now, not even his own life.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Potts said and he heard her hasty retreat.

He listened as the doors below finally buckled under the force. All went quiet for a moment, then the unmistakable sounds of battle commenced. The Beast could not help but smile at the sounds; after all this time, after everything he had done to them, his servants still protected the castle. He was honored to have them by his side all these years and wished bitterly he could have freed them from the curse they did not deserve. But it was too late now.

Two petals remained, clinging stubbornly to the stem. Unable to watch them fall, to watch his doom become final, he moved away to the window to watch the rain instead. Despair had robbed him of he strength to stand and he sank miserably onto a chaise lounge that still remained intact. Selfishly, he wished he had kept the mirror so he might have a last glimpse of Belle, but he knew his broken heart could not have withstood the added the pain of seeing her image and not having her there with him.

As the muffled sounds of the battle below began to subside, the Beast heard the doors of the West Wing creak open. Turning uninterestedly, he saw a man standing by the door, his bow fitted with an arrow and ready to shoot. _What are you waiting for?_ he silently asked the man and turned away with a moan. He hoped this man would hurry and end his grief.

* * *

Belle's POV

As they neared the castle, Belle saw several members of the earlier mob run past her back to town. "What's going on!" she demanded, hoping one of these frightened looking men would tell her what had happened to her Beast.

"They're alive!" they hollered, wide-eyed with terror as they bolted past Belle. "Run! The things are alive!" Belle smiled slightly. The servants were fighting back! And none of the men were screaming about a Beast, so perhaps he was safe.

Wasting no more time, Belle pushed Philippe towards the castle gates. Her poor horse was gasping heavily, but they were almost there. They crossed the bridge with one last push and Belle reined Philippe in. Signs of battle were all around her; unconscious men were lying across broken chairs and other furniture, but all was quiet now. The servants seemed to have won the day!

Before she could dismount and go inside to find the Beast, a familiar, chilling laugh echoed from above. She looked up to see Gaston, unmistakable in his red leather jerkin, on the rooftop with a cudgel in his hand steadily moving towards a mound at his feet. The mound groaned and shifted slightly and Belle could see that it was the Beast who Gaston was preparing to strike.

"No!" she screamed in horror. "No, Gaston don't!" Gaston brought the cudgel down and Belle started to look away, unwilling to watch her Beast die. But Gaston's attack was stopped suddenly as the Beast's paw rose up and took hold of it. He stood with a growl and Belle could see his will to fight had returned.

Without hesitation, Belle slid from her horse and ran through the rain inside the castle. The servants were scattered around the room, but at a quick glance none seemed seriously hurt. She hurried through them, her only thought was to get to the Beast as quickly as possible and stop Gaston. She climbed the stairs as swiftly as she could, her legs burning with the effort but she refused to stop until she reached the West Wing. She could only pray she wouldn't be too late.

* * *

Beast's POV

He lay on the edge of the roof at this man's feet, prepared to die. He heard rather than saw the man tear one of the spires off the side of the castle and come towards him. _Just get it over with_, he silently begged, lying still while the man approached him with his crude weapon.

"No!" a voice echoed up to where he lay. It sounded familiar and he raised his head to see who it was. Below him was, no it couldn't be. . .Belle was there, looking up at him in the rain.

"Belle?" he said weakly. Was he dreaming? Could this be just some image to taunt him in his final moments?

"No, Gaston don't!" she screamed and the Beast realized that she was truly there. She had come back! With that knowledge, his strength returned to him and he realized that he wanted to live. He wanted to live to see Belle beside him once more.

Swiftly, he turned and caught the cudgel before it could strike him, standing up to his full height. The man's mocking face turned to one of terror as the Beast straightened up and growled.

Belle's words echoed again in his mind: _Gaston don't!_ So _this_ was Gaston, the monster who had tormented Belle and haunted her nightmares. This man would pay for what he had done to Belle, with his life if necessary.

He struggled to tear the cudgel out of Gaston's grasp. This man was strong but, even with the broken arrow in his back, the Beast was so much stronger and he ripped the weapon away. The man slid down the side of the slick, wet roof and the Beast dove at him, sending them both hurdling through the air until they met the next rooftop. They tumbled down the slick surface until they hit a ledge. Gaston landed underneath him and the man was able to throw him off, but the Beast hid amongst a row of gargoyles and waited for him to pass. Gaston picked up his cudgel again and began slowly making his way past the stone figures.

"Come on out and fight!" he called, looking from side to side. The Beast made no move except to slide further into the shadows. "Were you in love with her, Beast?" Gaston continued. "Did you honestly think she'd want you, when she had someone like me?" The man's words angered him, but not in the way Gaston had intended. The Beast knew Belle held no love for this cruel man, but his anger grew at Gaston's dangerous, cocky persistence.

The man passed the Beast's hiding spot and the Beast eased out into the open to sneak up behind Gaston. Gaston whirled around just as the Beast went to strike, but he easily dodged the threatening cudgel and caught it in his strong jaw. They struggled for a moment and the Beast knew he was losing ground. He released the cudgel and backed up as far as he dare, the edge of the roof dangerously close. The Beast would not let his life end like this, not with Belle so close, and certainly not at the hands of this man.

"It's over, Beast," Gaston shouted above the rain and thunder. "Belle is mine!" Rage boiled inside the Beast at the thought of Belle in the hands of this monster. No such man would touch her; Belle deserved to be loved, not conquered as this man threatened.

With a swift lunge, he struck Gaston, successfully disarming him and caught hold of the man's thick throat, dangling him over the side of the castle.

Instantly, the man's cockiness turned to terror and he begged for his life. The Beast couldn't help but get some morbid satisfaction at seeing this strong man beg so piteously. He was fully prepared to simply loosen his hand and let the man fall, putting an end to this fight and to Belle's nightmares.

Belle. He realized that despite what this man had done, she would not have wanted the Beast to kill him. To do so would be cruel, and she had spent weeks convincing him that he was better than that. Because of her, the Beast had become too human to kill this man. Slowly, he dragged the man back onto the ledge.

"Get out," he growled and tossed him aside, done with this man's foolishness.

"Beast!" he heard Belle's voice call to him. He turned to see her standing on the balcony of the West Wing. Her mussed hair had come out of its bonds, her cheeks were flushed, and there was a smudge of dirt on her sleeve, but he couldn't help but think that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Belle!" he replied and started climbing the roof to reach her. Though it was no longer raining, the roof was still slick but his paws managed it easily. She reached a hand towards him and he hastened his climb to reach her. "Belle," he said again, more softly, so eager to touch her again and be sure she was real. When he drew close enough, he reached for her hand, enclosing it easily in his massive paw. At her touch, he knew at last that this was truly his Belle, she was really there.

"You came back," he said in disbelief, his free paw coming up to gently cup her face. She smiled and placed her hand on his, leaning into his touch. It was almost overwhelming to have her with him again; his heart swelled, no longer painfully broken and his joy filled him till he thought he'd burst. She had come back to him.


	19. Chapter 19

Belle's POV

It had stopped raining, but Belle hardly noticed. All she knew was that she was back with her Beast; she was home. She leaned into the paw that gently cupped her cheek, feeling a gentle tightness in her chest at the result of his touch. Belle was so relieved he wasn't hurt, that she was able to be with him again.

The moment was broken when the Beast suddenly roared in pain, his paw leaving her cheek to claw at the air. Horrified by this sudden action, Belle caught hold of his cloak and looked around his bulk to see Gaston clinging to the side of the balcony, pulling his dagger from the Beast's side.

"No!" she screamed, unable to tear her eyes away from Gaston's triumphant grin. His arm reached back to stab the Beast a second time, but the Beast's frantic, agonized movements caused him to slip. Before Belle could blink, Gaston plummeted into the shadows of the ravine hundreds of feet below the castle. Unable to spare the time to think about what had just happened to Gaston, Belle helped her poor, wounded Beast over the ledge and safely onto the balcony. He tried to stand, but his legs shook and would not hold his weight. He collapsed onto the stone balcony, gasping for breath and his face twisted in pain.

Belle dove beside him and quickly examined the wound in the Beast's side. Gaston's aim was true, as a hunter's would be, mortally wounding her Beast. Delicately, Belle covered the wound with the Beast's cloak and struggled not to cry. She knelt over her Beast and gently stroked his cheek, willing him to open his eyes. At her touch, the Beast turned his head to look at her as best he could, his eyes full of pain but still managing to smile at her.

"You came back," he said, his deep voice little more than a whisper. It broke Belle's heart to hear how weak his voice was and still sound so glad to see her.

"Of course I came back," she replied, trying and failing to keep her voice steady as she gently caressed his face. "I couldn't let them. . .This is all my fault. If only I gotten here sooner." She knew she shouldn't blame herself, but it was true; had she not shown the Beast's image to Gaston, the Beast would not be dying in her arms now.

"Maybe. . .it's better this way." He was struggling to speak now, his eyes barely able to stay open. Gently, she pressed her hand to his lips to stop his words before moving her hand to caress his cheek.

"Don't talk like that. We're together now, everything will be fine, you'll see." She hoped her words brought him some comfort, for they did nothing for her own. Her Beast was dying and nothing she said would make that right. He coughed weakly and his breathing became more strained, but he forced his eyes to remain open.

"At least I got to see you. . .one last time," he said and raised his paw to touch her cheek again. Belle reached up to hold it there, the fur soft against her skin and his touch so gentle.

"Please, Beast," she pleaded, trying to hold his fading gaze. "Don't you know how you've changed me? You're my home, please, stay with me." Despite her words, the Beast's eyes closed and his body went limp, his paw sliding from her cheek to fall to the stone, never to rise again.

"No!" she cried, grasping his shirt and trying to rouse him. He couldn't be. . . "No, please don't leave me!"

Tears fell down her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. Her heart was breaking; she was too late to save her Beast, too late to tell him all that she needed to say. Hopelessly, she collapsed onto his lifeless chest, hearing no hint of the heartbeat she felt so closely just hours before in the ballroom. Knowing it was too late, that nothing could bring her Beast back to her, she whispered the words she had been longing to say but hadn't known how.

"I love you."

* * *

It began to rain again, but Belle refused to move from her Beast's side. She knew it was hopeless, but to leave his side meant to admit that he was truly dead, that she would never see his eyes look at her with all their warmth, never hear his deep, rumbling voice again. All she could do was cling to him and sob, silently willing him to wake up.

A light shone from behind her closed eyelids; at first Belle thought it was the sun dawning before she remembered they were facing west, not east, and the light was coming in bright flashes. She didn't particularly care what caused it, but when the Beast began to move beneath her she was startled into opening her eyes. The light was coming from what looked like a thousand falling stars, leaving pebbles of light on the stone around them. The Beast's eyes were still closed, showing no signs that he might be alive, but Belle was shocked into backing away from him as his body was lifted into the air as easily as a flower petal in the wind.

As the Beast rose higher in the air, Belle gathered her cloak around her and stood to back away even further. She was overwhelmingly confused by what was happening, but could not tear her eyes away from the Beast while his cloak twisted around his body as he floated in the air. Shock prevented her from forming her confusion into intelligible thoughts. All she could manage was: _what's happening to him?_ over and over again.

She watched as the Beast's body twisted against the confines of his cloak, finally drawing out first an arm, then a leg until his limbs were exposed to the uncanny breeze the held him aloft. The strange wind blew against his fur, causing the fur to seemingly melt away to reveal human flesh, turning his clawed paws into human feet and hands. Last of all, his face began to change, his horns shrinking back to his head and his fangs disappearing as a human face took the place of her Beast's. A great flash of light kept Belle from wholly seeing this human who had somehow forced the Beast to disappear, and the man slowly sunk back down to the balcony amidst the folds of the cloak.

For a long moment, the figure did not move. Belle's curiosity dared her to reach out to move the cloak so she might see this man more clearly, but the still unknown figure started to rise and Belle jumped back in fright, her heart pounding and head spinning. _What was happening?_

The man stood, the cloak falling away to reveal a strong young man wearing clothes that exactly matched the Beast's. Belle watched, part in terror, part in amazement, as the man examined his own hands before finally turning around to face her.

Belle gasped at this sudden movement, wondering where her Beast had gone and why this man stood before her now. She felt her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she tried to make sense of all this. She recalled from the back of her mind the theory that the Beast had once been human, but that would have taken great magic. But what she had just witnessed before her eyes could surely not be called anything else. Was this man indeed her Beast?

"Belle, it's me," the man breathed and stepped forward to take her hands. Belle flinched away from his touch, but not far enough to pull free of it. The man's voice was somewhat familiar, though coming from the much smaller chest of a man she couldn't be sure.

Slowly, she examined the man for a trace of her Beast. He stood still, allowing her to run her fingers through his amber hair that was just a shade lighter than the Beast's fur had been. Still doubtful, she raised her eyes to meet his. This man's eyes were the same beautiful blue as her Beast's had been, their warmth and deepness exactly the same. Those beautiful eyes gazed at her with such emotion Belle had only known but once.

"It _is _you!" she finally realized. The Beast she loved was very much alive in this man; the Beast and this stranger were one in the same. She brought the hand that had been examining his hair to rest on his cheek, caressing his new jaw line. This was her Beast, the one she loved, the one she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with.

His hand, so much smaller than the Beast's paw but still much larger than her own, came up to gently brush her hair away from her face. She closed her eyes at his touch, the tightness in her chest returning as it only had when the Beast touched her. As his hand moved to cup her cheek, she opened her eyes, eager to see the life and the gentleness in them again.

She watched as he slowly lowered his face so that they were no more than a hands breadth apart and Belle's heart began beating wildly. Hoping she knew what was in store, she tilted her face up to his and closed her eyes. His warm lips met her own only a moment later, sending lightning through her body. A sudden wind swirled around them, causing him to pull her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck to prolong their kiss, unwilling for this moment to ever end.

This kiss had to end, of course, but Belle made sure to keep hold of his arms as their lips parted, unwilling to let him go lest something else happen. She was startled from looking away from him, however, as she noticed the castle around her had been transformed as well. The dark stone was gone, leaving beautiful white stone in its place and angels where there had been frightening gargoyles. The thunderclouds above them had parted, beautifully illuminating this new castle in the morning sun.

The servants had joined them as well, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts coming onto the balcony to gaze in astonishment at the sparkling stars that continued to rain down from the clear sky. Belle gasped as they were all one by one swept up by the magic and transformed into human beings. Lumiere became a tall, gangly man with a wide smile, Cogsworth, a round little man with a mustache that was reminiscent of his clock face, and Mrs. Potts rightly became a dear, plump older woman with a kind countenance. Sultan had joined them as well with Chip riding on his back, only for Sultan to be transformed into a scruffy looking dog and Chip became a small boy with a missing tooth.

Belle's head was spinning with confusion as she watched the servants regain their human forms, but the joy in their faces was addictive and kept Belle's hundreds of questions at bay. There would be plenty of time for that later. She watched with delight as her former Beast left her side to hug his servants tightly, clearly ecstatic at this wonderful turn of events. In him she saw the boyish excitement she had adored so much in her Beast and couldn't help but smile at it.

He returned to her side quickly, bending to lift her by the waist into the air and spun her around. She laughed, infected by the joy that surrounded her, unable to take her eyes away from his until he bent to kiss her again. She melted eagerly into his embrace, certain that she was finally home.

**Beast's POV to come!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Some backtracking here, but I ****_have_**** to tell it from the Beast's side, too!**

Beast's POV

The Beast woke as if being dragged to consciousness from a deep sleep, groggy and confused, and stood a bit unsteadily. He went to rub his face to push the drowsy feeling away, but stopped when he caught sight of his own paws. Except they weren't paws. . .they were _hands_. Human hands. He turned them over and back again, somehow not fully believing they were his own. But they responded to him as hands should and the Beast slowly realized that he was human again. But how?

Belle! He whirled around to see if she was still there, to convince himself this wasn't all just a dream. She was there, to his immense relief, looking extremely confused but very much real.

"Belle," he said, and put his hands to his chest in surprise. His voice was so much different now coming from human sized lungs. "It's me," he insisted and took her hands in his own, noticing how perfectly they slid together now, his paws—hands—no longer completely overwhelming her tiny hands.

He watched as her expression tilted into one of uncertainty and his heart started pounding, praying that she would believe him. He stood extremely still as Belle's hand cautiously came up to run through a lock of his hair. He had to let her see the Beast within this man he had become, and to do that he had to avoid frightening her away. As she looked up to finally meet his eyes, he watched as Belle's expression lightened as realization came to her.

"It _is_ you!" Her words were music to him, almost unable to believe that she was able to see into his soul as easily as she had. But this was Belle; if anyone could overcome such odds, it was she.

He smiled as her hand moved to caress his cheek and raised his own to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face, the silkiness of her hair more pronounced on his skin than it had been with fur. He found he could not break her gaze, nor did he want to, her beautiful brown eyes were holding his own so strongly. Unsure what he was doing, but knowing it felt right, he leaned closer to Belle, his heart thudding so loudly in his chest he was afraid she might hear it. But Belle only closed her eyes and lifted her face to his.

Encouraged by this, the Beast leaned closer, closing his eyes but opening them briefly at the last minute to check his direction before their lips met. All his nervousness was forgotten as what felt like lightning tingled through him at the touch of Belle's lips on his. Swirling wind seemed to push them closer together, his arms pulled her more tightly to him and her hands obligingly wrapped around his neck.

When they broke apart, though he had no intention of straying far from Belle's side, he looked around to see that his castle had been returned to all its former glory. But if he was human again, and the castle had been set right, that only meant. . .

As if to answer his unasked question, Lumiere, Cogsworth, and Mrs. Potts came bounding out into the shimmering stars that fell from the clear morning sky, one by one all returning to their human form. His heart threatened to burst with his happiness; the enchantment was broken! He embraced his three loyal servants, his dear friends, and heard the distance cheers of other servants as they undoubtedly returned to their former selves as well.

Unable to contain his joy, feeling as though he would burst with it, he turned back to Belle and twirled her in the air, making her laugh that wonderfully beautiful laugh of hers. When he set her down, he immediately bent to kiss her again. She was his savior, his miracle, his love, and he could not bear to be parted from her again.

"You did it, Belle," he said softly as they broke apart, smiling at her. He stayed close to her, ready to kiss her again. "You've saved us."

"I—I have?" she asked, her voice confused but her expression one of joy.

"Yes, my love," he replied and his heart skipped a beat at his own daring to address Belle so. "Your courage and your love have broken the spell."

"I think you had better explain this to me. Starting from the beginning," she suggested.

"Very well," he chuckled and kissed her once again. "But first I'd like to check on my servants. I'm sure there's a bit of confusion now." To his surprise, Belle's eyes widened to shock as if she had just remembered something important.

"Papa!" she exclaimed. "I forgot all about my father!"

"He's here?" he asked, trying to remember if he saw the older man beside Belle when she arrived, though he supposed he had been a bit distracted at the time.

"Yes, and I'm sure he's very confused just now. May we go find him?"

"Lead the way," he said and beamed as Belle reached down to entwine her fingers in his to lead him back through the castle.

He could not help looking about them as they strode through castle; the West Wing had been returned to its whole and proper state, the gargoyles had transformed into the beautiful statues they once were, and all around him servants were discovering their regained humanity. He grinned at them, shaking their hands when it was offered, never remembering seeing such joy in their faces.

"Oh, Papa!" Belle cried as they came to the entrance hall and he directed his attention on a very confused looking man. He froze, allowing Belle to slip out of his hand to embrace her father, suddenly realizing what this interaction would mean. He had imprisoned this man, treated him cruelly, and tore him away from the only family he had. How could Belle's father ever forgive him for such a horrible thing? _Maybe this wasn't such a good idea_, he moaned to himself.

"Papa, I want you to meet someone," Belle was saying and led her father to him. His heart pounded in fear now as the older man eyed him curiously. "This is—why, I don't even know your name!" Belle exclaimed and looked at him with a small, guilty smile. He searched his memory for an answer to this simple request, recalling with some difficulty that he had many names, as most royals did, but none that he could remember liking.

"Adam," he grunted amiably. "My name is Adam." It was as good a name as any of those that belonged to him, and he seemed to remember that was what his mother had called him.

"Adam," Belle said, seeming to taste the name as she spoke. He couldn't help but feel his heart leap as Belle called him by name for the first time. "Papa, this is Adam. Adam, this is my father, Maurice."

Without thinking, overcome by the knowledge of what he had done to this man, Adam sank to his knees before Belle's father and hung his head, his shame washing over him.

"Adam?" he heard Belle's voice call to him in confusion.

"I—I have to apologize to you, monsieur," he began haltingly, unprepared for this but knowing it had to be done. "I am. . .was. . . the Beast who locked you in my dungeon and took your daughter from you. There's nothing I can say that will make it right, except to try and convince you that I've changed. Belle has seen to that." He dared to glance up at Belle and was encouraged by her smile to keep speaking. "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I swear I will try and make it up to both of you."

Silence hung in the air for a moment and Adam cringed, hoping this man would accept his apology.

"Well," Belle's father began. "I'm not sure what's going on here, but if you really are the Beast, Belle has already done her part in convincing me to give you a second chance." Adam glanced up, first at Belle and then to her father, not expecting this information. Belle had spoken to her father about him?

Maurice was smiling at him, the older man's face nearly level with his own though Adam was on his knees. "You have nothing to worry about, my boy." Adam sighed with relief at his words.

"Thank you, monsieur," he said gratefully and stood, glad he had made peace with him but somewhat surprised Maurice had agreed so quickly.

"Papa," Belle began but her voice cracked and Adam was surprised to see her eyes glistening with tears. She cleared her throat and spoke again. "How are you feeling, Papa?"

"Fit as a fiddle, my dear," he said, taking a deep breath as if to emphasize his point. "Like I said, I don't know what's going on here, but it seems to be agreeing with me." Belle giggled and Adam was provoked into a smile. He couldn't help the small wave of gratitude he felt towards the Enchantress for this; if she could heal his own wounds and return the humanity to an entire castle of servants, then it was only right that she could cure Maurice's illness as well.

"You should stay here," he suggested eagerly. Belle raised an eyebrow at him, and he tried to rephrase his statement. "Um, I would be glad if you would stay in the castle, monsieur. In a proper room. As long as you like." Adam tried not to glance at Belle again, but he couldn't help looking to her for approval.

"Aha," Maurice said slowly. "And I suppose this invitation would have nothing to do with wanting to keep my daughter here as well now, would it?" Adam started to stammer an apology and Belle began to try and explain, but Maurice only chuckled. "I would be happy to accept your invitation, even if it is for selfish reasons," he said and the humor in his voice was not lost on Adam.

"Lumiere," he called to the passing servant. Adam restrained a smile as Lumiere glanced from him to the pretty maid just a short ways away and realized he had interrupted something. "My friend, would you see that a room is prepared for Belle's father?"

"Of course, your highness," Lumiere said with a grin and a bow. "And, may I say, it is good to see you again, monsieur," he added and shook Maurice's hand.

"Have we met?" Maurice asked, bouncing slightly with Lumiere's enthusiastic handshake.

"But of course! I was the candelabra who first welcomed you here!"

"Oh! Well, hello again I suppose," Maurice said with some confusion and Adam grinned.

"I promise I will explain everything to both of you," he vowed, looking first to Maurice and then to Belle. "After you have settled in, of course. And after I have changed my clothes," he added with an embarrassed smile, remembering he was still in the tattered garments that he had worn as the Beast. Thankfully the Enchantress had also thought to adjust his clothes during his transformation enough to avoid complete embarrassment. He bowed to Maurice and smiled warmly at Belle before turning back to the West Wing, eager to shed the clothes that marked his past and to take stock of his new form.

"Beast!" Belle's voice called after him and caused him to turn and watched her approach him. "Adam," she corrected with a smile as she drew level with him. "Thank you for what you said to my father. I hadn't intended to make you feel you had to apologize, though."

"I'm glad I got the chance," he admitted. "It was one of the many things that bothered me during your stay here. I felt terrible about taking your freedom away, but to tear you away from your father. . ." he trailed off as he remembered Belle's desperate cries to her father as he dragged the old man away. Truly, it was amazing Maurice had even considered forgiving him.

"You've changed so much since then," she reminded him gently, her hand trailing along his jaw. "It's not who you are now."

"I love you, Belle," he sighed happily, enjoying the light that danced in her eyes at his words.

"I love you, too," she replied and stood on tiptoe to pull him into another kiss. He would never tire of such an embrace with Belle. Indeed, he could hardly stand to be apart from her.

"I'll be back soon," he promised as he regrettably broke away from her, but he was eager to remove his old clothes and resume his humanity. "Why don't you show your father around?"

"Oh, I can't wait to show him the library!" she cried, suddenly excited.

"Perhaps you can save that till last," Adam suggested. "I'll meet you in there and tell you everything."

"You will?"

"What better place to tell a story?" he reasoned and brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. She smiled up at him and nodded. "I'll see you soon then," he promised. With one last kiss, Adam left her to return to her father as he made his way back to the West Wing. He could still hardly believe that the spell had at last been broken, that a woman as wonderful and caring as Belle could have possibly learned to love him, and thankful that he had found the courage to love her in return, with all his heart.


	21. Part 2: Chapter 21

Beast's POV

Adam returned to the West Wing quickly, eager to rejoin Belle as soon as he could. After all that had happened last night, he wanted to be by her side, but he also needed a few minutes to collect himself. Once he was safely alone, he sat on the edge of his bed and sighed.

"I'm human," he said aloud to himself, trying to make himself understand that this was real. "My name is Adam, and I'm human." As he said his own name, he couldn't help but recall with a smile that Belle had called him by his name just a few minutes ago. Hearing her say it made him feel more human than his own poor attempts.

Intent on rejoining Belle without further delay, he stood and walked over to the nearest wardrobe, hoping to find something more suitable than the tattered clothes of the Beast. His path led him past the mirror that stood on a dresser and caught sight of his own image. Startled by the flash he saw of the unfamiliar human, he stopped to take a closer look.

His features were relatively similar to his boyhood, specifically the auburn hair and blue eyes, but his face had thinned, his jaw was more pronounced, and his chest and shoulders were considerably more broad. He was a man now, no longer a small, self-centered boy. As he unwillingly brought back the memories of his childhood he had tried to push away for the last ten years, his stomach tightened uncomfortably. He was so selfish, so cruel to everyone; it was no wonder the Enchantress had placed that curse on him. Adam hoped that this man he had become was nothing like the child he was. With Belle by his side, though, he was confident nothing like that could happen.

Wasting no more time, he discovered the green coat he had ruined with porridge as the Beast, clean and perfectly fit to his new size. In fact all of the clothes in the wardrobe seemed to have altered to fit his human body and he shook his head in wonder at the Enchantress' attention to detail. He dressed, discarding his torn clothes in a pile before deciding that a Prince should keep his room tidy. The Beast had not cared about the state of the West Wing, but he was no longer the Beast. Humans did things differently. So he picked up his tattered clothes and put them instead in a convenient basket.

Before leaving, he checked himself in the mirror to make sure he was dressed acceptably. Looking in the mirror was strange to him still; he had not done such a simple act since the previous night when he was preparing for dinner with Belle, rarely wanting the painful undeniable reminder that he was a Beast. Now, he wanted to present himself to Belle as a gentleman; he had tried his best as a Beast, but he hoped that as a man he could do better.

He straightened his jacket one last time and started to head towards the door, but suddenly realized that the floor was cold beneath his feet. He looked down at his still strange feet and realized that a human man needed shoes. Quickly he went back to his wardrobe and pulled on a pair of black boots, squirming his toes against the unfamiliar feel of the leather. He stood and took a few unsteady steps, accommodating the slightly constricting feel into his stride. It took a few turns around the room to be able to step normally again.

_All right_, he said to himself and went through a mental list of all that humans needed to wear. Considering himself prepared, he strode once again towards the doors to the West Wing and successfully into the hall before he ran into Mrs. Potts, pushing her tea cart towards him. He paused, unused to seeing the human Mrs. Potts. Her hair was perhaps more white than he remembered, but other than that she was still the same, comfortable woman who told him stories as a child.

"Hello, Master," she greeted him as they drew closer together. "I was just coming to have a little chat with you."

"What about?"

"It's about the servants, sire. They're all in a tizzy with what's happened today, as you can well imagine. Some of them are thinking about leaving, which I think they have every right to do after being cooped up here for so long. I think it would help a great deal if you would speak with them."

"They want to leave?" he asked, surprised and slightly worried that he might end up alone in his castle.

"Only a few, Master. Many of them had family in other towns and wish to see them again." Adam nodded slowly, trying to imagine how they felt and only succeeding in feeling more guilty in the process.

"All right," he said hesitantly. "But I was just going to go talk to Belle and her father about. . .well everything."

"Oh, that's a splendid idea! I'm sure she must be terribly confused. But I _do_ think you should address the servants today." Adam nodded, but felt his stomach attempt to tie itself in knots at the idea of making a speech to his servants. He hadn't done so in a very long time and was never comfortable with the idea of speaking to a crowd.

"Perhaps before dinner," he suggested when Mrs. Potts did not make a move to leave, clearly expecting something more from him. She was always rather good at silently making him follow through with his decisions, particularly after he had been turned into a Beast and had been a bit more willing to take her advice.

"Very well. I'll tell the others," she said with a smile and a nod and turned back down the hall. Adam watched her go for a moment, his heart thudding at the idea of speaking in front of his servants. With a start, he recalled that he promised to explain everything to Belle and her father and he was certain his heart would burst with so much nervous anticipation.

* * *

He entered the library as promised, but there was no sign of Belle or her father. Grateful for the time to collect himself, he strode over to one of the large windows and sat on the cushioned window seat Belle often frequented. He arranged the pillows nervously as he awaited Belle and Maurice, wondering how he would even begin to tell them all that happened to him. They both deserved the truth, but he was unsure of his ability to tell it.

As he picked up a lavender pillow with gold fringe, he uncovered the book Belle had been reading. He was always amazed that she could have multiple books in progress at one time; one they would read together, and another to read when she was alone. He picked up the leather volume and smiled at the ribbon that marked her page, fraying at the ends from overuse.

"Hello," Belle's sweet voice made him turn towards the doors of the library. Adam smiled, noticing that she had changed into a beautiful lavender gown he hadn't seen before. Maurice was beside her, wearing the same suit of clothes and Adam made a mental note to ask the castle's seamstress to provide him with warmer, better quality garments.

"Hello," he said in return, smiling at Maurice's flabbergasted expression and returned the book to the window seat. "Are you enjoying the tour?"

"I—well yes," Maurice replied, tearing his eyes away from the massive library to look at him. "Thank you for the room, by the way. I think it's bigger than my entire house!"

"Oh, Papa," Belle sighed and Adam got the impression Belle had asked him not to remark on that aspect, though Adam couldn't see why.

"So, uh. . .do you want to show him the library a bit more?" Adam asked, trying to put off the moment he would have to tell them what happened to the castle.

"I think you promised us a story," Belle said, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, silently saying that she knew what he was trying to avoid it and that it wouldn't work.

"Let's—let's sit," he said nervously and motioned to the chairs by the fireplace. He allowed Belle and Maurice to sit first, choosing between the arm chair and the sofa. Adam silently wished to sit beside Belle on the sofa, but would understand if Maurice wanted to remain close to his daughter. To his selfish joy, however, Maurice had chosen the arm chair and Adam was free to sit beside Belle. He was comforted by her nearness, but it didn't make the story any less difficult to tell. Adam sat in silence for a moment, twisting his hands together and wondering how to begin.

"Adam?" Belle said cautiously and placed her hand over his, halting their nervous movements. Adam looked up to meet her eyes, still unused to hearing his own name. "It's all right. You can trust us; we just want to know what happened to you," she said softly, her words washing over him and calming him enough to take a breath.

"I—I was always a very selfish child," he began haltingly, hoping that Belle would keep her hand holding his own. It gave him strength to feel her so close to him. "I was the oldest, the heir to my father's throne, so I was allowed to do what I wanted. I'd rather not go into detail about that," he cringed at the very thought of relating to Belle what he had done as a boy. "But you can be sure it wasn't good. My mother was the only one who could handle me. She's the one—the one who taught me to play the piano. It was the only thing that would keep me calm for any length of time."

He glanced at Belle again and saw the light of understanding in her eyes. She nodded in what he could see was recognition of the incident between them and the piano and motioned for him to continue.

"She died of scarlet fever when I was eight. So did my little sister." He heard Belle gasp at the mention of his sister, but he ignored it, eager to pass this part of the tale. "My father returned to the main castle the family owned and left me here to terrorize the castle. This is just the summer home. Mother liked it here best, so we spent most of our time here," he explained quickly, forgetting that he had not mentioned it before. He had spent most of his life here, it was easy to forget there were others.

"Mrs. Potts had tried to become a mother-like figure for me," he continued. "She would tell me stories and calm me down when I had nightmares, even though she had her own small son to take care of and had just lost her husband to the fever. I owe her so much for those years," Adam trailed off and was lost for a moment in gratitude and shame for Mrs. Potts' unwavering good nature in the light of all that he had done. A small squeeze of Belle's hand brought him back to the present and he took a breath to continue his tale.

"There was a Christmas celebration the year I turned eleven. The servants put everything together to please me, but I still demanded gifts from them," Adam felt his heart contract in shame at how he had treated them. "I was furious when the celebration was interrupted by an old beggar woman. I answered the door myself because I knew the servants wouldn't punish whoever interrupted my night. The woman at the door offered me a rose in exchange for shelter from the storm that raged outside, but I was so disgusted by her I slammed the door in her face." Adam closed his eyes against what he had to say next, unwilling to say it out loud but wanting Belle to understand.

"There was a great light and the doors opened by themselves to show a beautiful woman hovering several feet above the ground, bathed in light. I realized I had made a horrible mistake and tried to beg for forgiveness from the Enchantress, but she cursed me and transformed me into the Beast. She said that I had no love in my cruel heart and until I learned to love someone and earned their love in return, I would be doomed to remain a Beast. But I only had till the night I turned twenty-one, before the last petal of the rose fell, otherwise I would remain the Beast forever."

"The rose in the West Wing," Belle interrupted. "That was your time-keeper. So when I went to touch it. . ." she trailed off and Adam watched her connect all the facts of his story. "No wonder you were so angry with me."

"It's no excuse," he said quickly. "You couldn't have known."

"So you've been a Beast for ten years?" Maurice asked and Adam turned his gaze to the old man to nod. "How could an Enchantress have cursed a boy? She couldn't have known you would always be so cruel."

"I was a _very_ awful boy," he assured Maurice. "And I _hadn't_ changed, not until I met Belle. She was the first one to stand up to me and show me the beauty in life. None of the servants would contradict a Prince; there was no one to tell me to stop until Belle."

"She's always been the sensible one," Maurice said proudly, grinning at his daughter. "Doesn't put up with much, my Belle." Adam chuckled and agreed, enjoying the way Belle blushed at her father's words.

"But why curse the servants as well?" Belle asked. "What had they done to deserve that?"

"I suppose it's because they let me become the monster I was," Adam suggested. "Though if you ask me it's my father who should've been cursed, not them. They were only following orders. And Mrs. Potts did try." Adam sighed and shook his head. "I wish I could give them those long years back. Truly they didn't deserve it."

"I know they love you," Belle reassured him. "And it seems you really appreciate them now."

"Some of them want to leave," he confessed, remembering his conversation with Mrs. Potts. "They want to return to their families, which I understand, but I don't know what they're going to say to explain all this. Mrs. Potts wants me to address the servants later on and I have to figure out what to say to them."

"I think that's a wonderful idea," Belle said. "You should explain to everyone what happened between us. And perhaps suggest some sort of story for them to tell instead."

"But what?"

"You've been traveling," Maurice suggested. "And needed them in your retinue. Perhaps they could elaborate their positions to make it more believable."

Adam nodded gratefully. "I think that will work, thank you, monsieur. Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to stand up in front of all those people."

"I'll be there with you, if you want," Belle offered shyly.

"I'd like that," he confirmed with a crooked smile and took a firmer grip on her hand.

"Huh, well you two lovebirds better get on with it then," Maurice announced, causing Belle to jump and break eye contact with Adam. "With the speech, I mean. I'm starving, and I suppose we're not eating until after you talk to them." Adam grinned and summoned Cogsworth, instructing him to gather all the servants by the grand staircase.

Three-quarters of an hour later, Adam stood on the grand staircase, a few steps above the main floor so that everyone might see and hear him. He hands were shaking and his legs threatened to collapse under him, but with Belle close beside him he found the strength to remain standing.

He explained to the crowd of servants before him all that had happened in the past couple of days between Belle and himself (though he was almost positive that everyone was very much aware of what happened at the last dinner he and Belle shared). He thanked them graciously for their service through such a hard time, following Belle and Maurice's advice, told them that anyone was free to leave who wished to, but would they please tell their families they had been traveling abroad with the prince? The crowd laughed at this, which Adam hoped was a sign they would honor his request.

"But," he added as an idea suddenly came to him, "would you stay until the end of the week? I would be honored to celebrate the end of the curse with you all. A banquet, perhaps? And a dance?" Though the end of his speech was less than eloquent, it was met with loud cheers and smiling faces. Adam couldn't help but smile at their happiness, a joy that he easily shared.

As the servants dispersed to make their preparations for the promised celebration, Belle took a step closer to him and wrapped her hands around his arm. "Well done, my love," she said softly and rested her head on his shoulder. He turned his face to kiss the top of her head.

"Will you wear the yellow gown again at the celebration?" he whispered into her hair. She turned her face to his, a beautiful smile spread across her face as she nodded in agreement.


	22. Chapter 22

Belle's POV

Though she hadn't slept in almost forty-eight hours, Belle felt wide awake. She and her father ate dinner with the Beast—Adam—after he had addressed the servants. She was pleased to see how well they seemed to get along, once Adam was able to overcome his obvious nervousness. He had even given her father a room of his own in the castle to use as his workshop. They hadn't seen it yet, but Adam promised it was a massive stone room with plenty of ventilation and light and Belle could only hope it was capable of holding up against any explosion her father would inevitably create.

Her father was overjoyed and throughout dinner he and Adam discussed little else besides pulleys and levers and gears. It was a subject Adam seemed quite knowledgeable about, which surprised Belle, but she was glad of this connection between him and her father, even if she was left out of the conversation a bit.

Dinner had left her with much to think about, not to mention everything that happened since the previous night. Her mind whirred, jumping first to the previous night with Beast in the ballroom, then to Adam in his beautiful green jacket, then back to the Beast dying in her arms only for her mind to leap forwards again at the tender goodnight they had shared just a few hours ago now. She even spared a thought for Gaston; he didn't deserve to die, but he did so because of his own blind jealousy and rage. The guilt she felt at his death was somewhat eased with the knowledge that the village was certain to give him a proper burial.

What she thought about most, however, was her future with Adam. She loved him with all her heart, that could not be disputed. And she saw in his deep blue eyes that he loved her as well. Now that her father had joined them in the castle as well, Belle was content to live her life there. What would be proper, and indeed what she hoped for with all her heart, was for Adam to marry her.

The thought of spending her life with Adam, with her kind and gentle Beast, sent her heart beating wildly with excitement. But did he feel the same? Surely now that he was a prince again there would be certain duties for him to follow, but would those responsibilities allow her to stay beside him? Her fairy tales spoke of princes marrying other princesses, but just as often a royal found their love in someone of lower birth. Was there a real custom Adam had to follow for whom he could or could not marry?

She shook her head and told herself she was being silly. They had just declared their love for each other last night, for goodness sakes, and already she was worried about marriage! Giving up on trying to sleep, she stood and opened the doors of the inanimate wardrobe to fetch her dressing gown. When Madame Armoire had become a handsome woman with dark brown hair and an easy smile, she had moved back into the servants quarters.

Belle missed the wardrobe's boisterous moods and wished Madame Armoire was there now. 'The Master is crazy about you!' she would have said, and did often say in the past couple of weeks. The thought made Belle smile, but did not ease her mind. Madame Armoire would return in the morning, Belle reasoned, but until then Belle needed a distraction.

She donned her dressing gown, lit a candle, and softly padded her way down to the library. There had been many sleepless nights where Belle had escaped to the library. Her books distracted her from her own thoughts, whether they be about an argument she and the Beast had, or about the kindness in his eyes she couldn't quite explain to herself.

Once inside the library, she could instantly breathe a bit better. Setting the candle on a table beside a sofa, she stoked up the fire and settled in with Grimm's fairy tales. She found herself analyzing the happy endings between royals and non-royals, however, and had to set it aside. She picked up instead Shakespeare's _Hamlet_ and was soon engrossed in the madness that ensued between the characters.

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam rose the next morning before dawn after a night of very little sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed in the darkness for a few moments, recalling all that had happened to him in the past couple of days. It seemed impossible that the spell had been broken, but the bed itself had been enough to prove to him that it was true; he had not slept on a proper mattress since the night he had become the Beast, having torn it to shreds in anger at his transformation. If there was any doubt still in his mind, the cold stone that met his bare, furless feet as he left his bed was a harsh reminder.

He dressed by the light of a candle and left the West Wing to pace the halls. The servants had not woken yet so the castle was quiet, allowing him to think in peace.

What would happen now that the spell was broken and he was human? He had no idea how to be a prince, nor did he have any desire to be, but he supposed it would be harder to hide from the world now. Doubtless Cogsworth was only biding his time, waiting to pounce on Adam with a thousand reminders of his responsibilities as Prince.

Briefly he wondered if his father was still alive so that Adam might not have to shoulder full responsibility for their lands, but that meant attempting to contact the man who had abandoned Adam to his own destruction. But if his father _was_ alive, it might mean Adam could have the luxury of taking his time to learn to be human again and, more importantly, learning to be human with Belle by his side.

As he passed the library, he noticed the soft glow of the fire shining beneath the doors. Knowing Belle must be inside, he opened the door and quietly crept over to the sofa by the fireplace where he could see Belle's tiny feet draped over the arm, her slippers lying forgotten on the floor. Adam peered over the back of the sofa and smiled. Belle was sound asleep, the inevitable book lying on her chest, rising and falling with her breathing. Her face was turned somewhat away from him and her mouth was slightly open, a strand of hair fallen across her forehead.

He watched her breathe for a moment or two as the dying firelight danced across her pale skin and struggled to breathe himself. She was so lovely, so beautiful he hardly believed himself worthy of her. Belle shifted in her sleep and Adam remembered fondly that this was not the first time he had found her sleeping in the library.

The first time, they had just had an argument over the book Belle had been reading to him. It was an epic poem called _Beowulf_ which at first he found quite boring, but when the hero murdered the creature called Grendel as well as its mother, he found himself infuriated at the tale. Belle had argued in favor of Beowulf since Grendel was terrorizing the people, which Adam found extremely insulting given the fact that he himself was a monster. He argued that perhaps Grendel wasn't the monster Beowulf and the others said he was, but Belle was stubborn. He left in a huff and took to pacing the halls during the night, going over their argument in his head. In the small hours of the morning, he discovered the light in the library and peered in to see Belle asleep on the window seat, Grimm's fairy tales fallen on the floor.

Their relationship was still in its early stages, tentative and uncertain, so he merely draped his cloak across her to keep her from becoming chilled, placed the book on a nearby table, and left. The next morning, she had returned his cloak with her thanks. Though they hadn't finished _Beowulf_, Belle started reading _A Midsummer's Night Dream_ to him. He never commented on her sudden change of reading material and their argument was forgotten.

It wasn't only late night slumbers in the library he witnessed. Just three weeks ago, there had been a been a terrible snowstorm that had kept Adam up most of the night, barricading windows and doors. Belle had admitted to getting very little sleep as well because of the storm. Apparently she had been helping Mrs. Potts try to calm the teacups, no small feat in the middle of the fierce storm. Despite their exhaustion, they both agreed that they wanted to continue the book they had been reading. Adam did not want to deny her the pleasure of continuing the story on his account, but he found his eyes became heavier and heavier as Belle's sweet voice fairly lulled him to sleep.

He woke with a start at a sudden thump and was instantly worried he might have offended Belle by falling asleep. But when he looked at her in the chair across from him, he noticed that Belle had fallen asleep as well, her legs curled under her and her head cradled in her arms against the side of the chair. The book she was reading had slipped from her lap to fall with a thud to the floor, which of course was what had woken him. Adam merely smiled at her sleeping form before leaning his head back on his chair and lapsing once again into slumber, hoping he wouldn't snore.

Adam brought himself back to the present as a ray of early morning sunlight coming through the windows momentarily blinded him. Provoked into moving by the light in his eyes, he knelt beside Belle and tried to find the bravery to brush the strand of hair out of her face as he was longing to do. Reminding himself that Belle loved him and was comfortable with him, he raised his hand and brushed aside the wayward strand, lingering on her warm cheek.

Belle's eyes wearily fluttered open and Adam's heart momentarily stopped, worried at what she might think having him so close. But Belle only smiled sleepily at him and he grinned in return.

"Sorry to wake you," he whispered. "It's still early if you want to go back to sleep." Belle nodded and Adam moved to leave her alone, but Belle took hold of his hand and drew him towards her. She sat up momentarily to lead him onto the sofa only to lie back down once he was settled, placing her head on his lap.

Startled by this sudden, unfamiliar development, he sat frozen for a moment, unsure what to do. As Belle's breathing evened, signifying that she had gone back to sleep, Adam wrapped one hand around her stomach and with the other he lightly stroked her hair that was draped over his lap. It was bliss sitting there like that, his beloved so at peace in his presence. He found his own worries washing away as he gently ran his fingers through Belle's hair, and couldn't resist drifting off to sleep.

* * *

He woke to the feeling of his cheek being lightly kissed and opened his eyes to see Belle kneeling on the sofa beside him.

"Good morning," he muttered sleepily, not quite ready to wake up just yet.

"You didn't sleep well, either?" she asked, moving to rest her head on his shoulder.

"Lots to think about, I guess." He felt Belle nod in agreement and he wondered what had plagued her sleep. Were they thoughts of him? And if so, how horrible were they to have kept her awake?

"Belle?" he asked, turning to he could look at her straight on. She leaned back on her feet as he moved and looked at him curiously. Her hair was a bit tousled from sleeping, but her eyes were bright and her smile heartwarming. "Are you happy here with me?"

"You've asked me that before," she reminded him. "Just two nights ago." He nodded, acknowledging that he remembered the night they had danced together and held each other close. He was so nervous to be in her presence that night but still determined to admit his true feelings for her. How could he forget that night?

"But that was before all this happened," he said, motioning an arm to encompass himself, the castle, and the enchantment. "Are you happy here, with me like this, with everything you know about me now?"

"Of course," she assured him. "I love you, Adam. You must know that. Though I have to admit it's still hard to believe that you were awful enough to provoke an Enchantress."

"You have no idea how much you've changed me," he said with a smile, though he had never been more serious in his life. If Belle hadn't been so brave. . .he shuddered as he thought how close he had come to remaining a Beast forever. Assuming he hadn't died at the hands of Gaston, that is, which he had also come horribly close to doing.

"Adam?" Belle's hand came up to cup his cheek and Adam's eyes were drawn to hers. "What is it? There's something you're not telling me."

"How can you read me so well?" he asked, avoiding her question with his honest surprise.

"You're face might have changed," she explained, "but your eyes still give you away." Adam could see that Belle was determined to find out what was wrong; he sighed heavily and gazed at Belle dismally, hoping she wasn't going to make him admit what he had done. But her gaze never faltered and it was clear she wasn't going to let this go.

"I—I've destroyed lives, Belle," he grunted and turned away from her, unwilling to see the inevitable disappointment in her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"I've done horrible things to some of my servants. Any who dared to confront me after my father left me, any who were brave enough say 'no' to me, I threw them in the dungeons like I did your father. I denied them food and then banished them from the castle, all because they tried to stand up to me. I was so cruel to them, Belle. I was a monster."

Belle was silent for a long time and Adam began to give up hope that she would speak to him again.

"How many times did this happen?" she finally asked. Her voice was even and impassive, but it only made Adam more ashamed that Belle should have to control her emotions so.

"Twice. I never knew what became of them. I didn't care at the time. But Belle, there's something else, something I need you to know if you're going to stay here with me." His heart pounded in his ears, unwilling to tell Belle the horrible things he had done but knowing that Belle deserved the truth. If he could have told her earlier without revealing the enchantment to her, he would have, but it was impossible until now.

"What's that?" she asked carefully.

"After my father left, I was completely alone. I had the servants, but not my family. I was just a boy, a selfish boy. . .there's no excuse but you have to understand." Belle nodded encouragingly, though her expression was one of apprehension. With a deep breath, Adam continued.

"It was Christmas night, the night I was cursed to be the Beast. Everything had been going wrong that day, at least as far as I was concerned. I was woken too early, my breakfast was wrong, my room was too cold. . .everything that a selfish child could pick at, I did. So by the time dinner was over, I was overwhelmed with rage. To make it worse, it was also the first Christmas my father didn't send me a gift. It wasn't the lack of the gift itself that I was angry at, but the knowledge that he had at last forgotten me. So when the servants presented me with a book, it was only a reminder that there was nothing from my father.

"They were only trying to pacify me, but it would have been better if I had gotten nothing at all. I wanted to know the name of the man who had sold them the book, this book that was the only gift I was to receive since my father chose to ignore my existence. I was convinced the only way to stop this was to stop the bookseller from remaining in business. This unknown man had caused me pain, so I was going to stop him from doing any more harm. I gave an order for my guards to find this man, kill him, and destroy his shop."

Belle gasped and Adam hung his head, his shame painfully growing inside him like a poison. But he continued. "The order was not carried out. The Enchantress decided to make her appearance then and, well you know the rest. I suppose my order had been the final straw." Belle was silent. When Adam dared to raise his eyes from his clasped hands, she wasn't even looking at him, directing her gaze instead to the floor. She hated him now; how could she feel any differently?

"I'm sorry," he muttered hopelessly and bitterly wished that he had not been so cruel. Belle deserved better. He stood and started to leave; his past was too much to be overlooked by who he had tried to become. No one, not even Belle, could possibly forgive him for what he had wanted to do that horrible, fateful Christmas night.


	23. Chapter 23

Belle's POV

Belle sat stunned on the sofa, unable to believe what Adam had just told her. He wanted to murder a man for selling books? She took a mental step backwards and tried to examine the other information he had provided. His father had abandoned him after the rest of his family had died. Belle tried to imagine it was out of grief of the loss of his wife and daughter, but there was no excuse for deserting his only remaining child. Adam was a child left alone, yes with servants and anything he could ask for, but without his father's love, a father who could not be bothered to send his only son a present. It must have been horrible for Adam to know that his own father did not love him. Such a thing would anger any child. Fortunately nothing had come of the deadly order the heartbroken boy had given in a moment of anger.

In her overwhelmed mind, Belle realized with a start that Adam was no longer sitting beside her and panic began to set in. He must have taken her silence badly and left.

"Adam?" she called, turning to look for him, but he was nowhere to be found. The library door stood open, so Belle sped towards the hallway, clutching her dressing gown as she ran. She had to find Adam before he convinced himself that she was angry with him and lock himself away, as he so often did when he was a Beast. It was surprisingly terrible information he had given her just a few moments ago, but he had to realize that she loved him for who he was now. "Adam, where are you?" she called as she hurried down the halls towards the West Wing. She was certain that's where he would end up and she could only hope he would let her in.

She didn't get very far, however. She rounded a corner and was forced into stopping as she ran right into her father.

"Omph!" she cried on impact. "Oh, Papa! Good morning," she greeted him warmly, glad to see him looking so well in a handsome new suit and tried not to look down the hall in hopes to see Adam.

"Belle, I was just looking for you. I got a bit lost, though. Any idea where we are?" Belle nodded in sympathy, having gotten lost quite a few times herself in the first days of her stay in the castle.

"We're just near the library. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, that's why I was looking for you. I wanted—Belle, you're still in your nightgown. What are you doing?"

"Oh, I fell asleep in the library," she explained hastily, unsure whether she should mention the rather disturbing conversation she and Adam had. "I was just on my way back to my room to change. If you wait a few minutes I'll walk to breakfast with you." She decided that what Adam told her was to remain between the two of them. But in order to do that now, she had to stop her search for Adam and could only hope that he would be there at breakfast, though she rather doubted it. Quickly, Belle walked with her father back to her room, eager to find Adam and apologize for her poorly timed silence.

"I'll just be a minute," she assured him as she ducked inside her room to change. Inside, she was relieved to see both Madame Armoire and Mrs. Potts chatting lightly as they set Belle's vanity in order. She couldn't think of anyone else she needed to talk to more just then; if anyone could give her advice about how to mend things with Adam, these two could.

"Good morning," she greeted them both, causing the women to turn and smile warmly at her. Belle sighed happily, certain that between the three of them they could figure out something for Belle to say to Adam.

"Where on earth have you been?" Madame Armoire exclaimed and started tutting at the state of Belle's hair.

"I fell asleep in the library," she replied and ducked away from her hands. "I actually wanted to talk to you both about something."

"You're going to catch your death in that drafty library," Madame Armoire scolded. "But let's get you set to rights while you tell us what's troubling you," she suggested and took the brush Mrs. Potts held out to her. Belle sighed and sat in a chair, allowing Madame Armoire to fuss over her.

Belle tried to relax as Madame Armoire began to brush her hair for her. It was a bit uncomfortable having someone physically tend to her, but Madame Armoire seemed to be enjoying the use of her hands again, so Belle left the matter alone for the time being. She caught Mrs. Potts' eye through the mirror's reflection and the older woman smiled in understanding at Belle's less than delighted expression.

As Madame Armoire combed Belle's hair, Belle related all that had happened in the library that morning. Mrs. Potts listened quietly and, with some prodding by Mrs. Potts, Madame Armoire remained silent as well, allowing Belle to tell her story completely. "I was going after him to explain and apologize, but I ran into Papa and I wasn't sure if I should tell him or not," she finished as she tied the ribbon around her hair, completing her outfit.

"That was very brave of him to tell you those things," Mrs. Potts said gently as she brushed a wrinkle out of Belle's sleeve.

"After all, it certainly wasn't his proudest moment," Madame Armoire added. "I'm sure once you see him and explain it will be all right again."

"If he ever wants to see me again," she muttered. "I was just so stunned; he's so gentle now, I could hardly imagine him wanting to kill someone over a gift. I wish I could've explained myself before he left. I'm sure he's taking it very badly." Belle looked down at the rug and saw Adam's fearful face as he told his story. He trusted her to be there for him, and she failed.

"Let's see if he's at breakfast," Mrs. Potts said, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "Perhaps he's learned from all you've done for him and realized himself that running away and hiding is a poor option." Belle nodded, though she sincerely doubted it. It was too horrible a tale and too poor a reaction on her part for him to have done anything else. As they went into the hall, however, Belle was proven wrong. Adam was waiting just outside her door, chatting with her father.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, unprepared to see Adam there. He seemed embarrassed, as if he wasn't sure if he should have been there, either.

"At last!" Maurice exclaimed when he noticed Belle had joined them. "Let's go to breakfast, I'm starved!" Belle didn't move, wanting to talk to Adam but knowing she shouldn't in front of her father, not with this. She glanced between Adam and her father and tried to think of something to say, but fortunately Mrs. Potts stepped forward.

"Perhaps I could take you," Mrs. Potts offered sweetly. "I believe the Master and Belle have some things to discuss."

"Oh, I. . ." Maurice glanced from Belle to Adam until his eyes rested on Mrs. Potts with a rather dazzling smile. "Very well," he agreed finally and held out his arm for her. As Mrs. Potts took it, Belle could have sworn she blushed. Curious about this new development, Belle watched her father and Mrs. Potts walk away for a moment.

"You, uh. . .you wanted to talk to me?" Adam asked, bringing her attention immediately back to him.

"Yes, oh yes I did! I was so afraid you weren't going to want to see me, I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to explain myself," she said hastily.

"I was coming to apologize to you," he explained. Belle could see he looked miserable, as if he had come against his better judgment, but she was astounded that he had come at all. "I know you must hate me for what I've done, but it was rude of me to walk out on you." He looked at the floor as he spoke, apparently trying to avoid her eyes.

"_Hate_ you?" she repeated in horror. So that's what he thought of her silence? "Adam, I could never hate you! I've made such a mess of things again. I'm so sorry!" She took a breath to collect her thoughts, intent on setting things right between them.

"What you wanted to do to the bookseller was wrong," she started and her heart wrenched as he flinched at her words, but she continued quickly. "But you know that. What your father did to you was also wrong, terribly wrong; no one should abandon their child like he did.

"I also don't agree with what the Enchantress did to you, but I'm glad of the man you grew to be as a result. You've _changed_, Adam. I love this man you've become. I can see you regret what you did as a child, and that alone is evidence of the kind, gentle man you are. Now that you've learned to be kind, you must learn to forgive yourself and live this new life you've started."

Adam finally lifted his eyes to hers and she smiled reassuringly, astonished that her words actually had the power to comfort him. "You are _good_," she continued and gently took hold of his hand. "You have to believe that."

"Do _you_ believe it?" he asked as his fingers closed around hers, all his self-doubt reflected in that single sentence.

"With all my heart." It was still strange for her to look into his eyes and see them surrounded by flesh instead of fur, but this was still her Beast, her Adam, and she loved him.

"So you'll stay?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper as if he was afraid to ask.

"Of course. I've told you once before, and it's still true now: you're my home. So long as you want me, I'll stay here beside you, no matter what." Adam let go of her hand only to wrap his arms around her, pulling her close and enveloping her in his warmth. Belle returned the embrace eagerly, enjoying the feeling of safety and love encompassed in his arms. It was a familiar comfort, even if the arms that held her were no longer covered in fur. They stood like that in silence for a moment and Belle listened to the gentle beat of his heart.

"I will always want you here with me," Adam said, keeping her in his arms as he spoke. "I'm sorry I walked away from you, but I was certain you hated me for what I'd done. I was afraid you couldn't look passed it."

"I admit I was startled by it," she conceded, squeezing her arms a bit tighter to keep him in place. "But I'm glad you told me. You can tell me anything, you know." He needed to be able to open up to her, and she was glad that he was trying. She had to be better at listening and responding, that's all.

"We should join your father at breakfast," Adam said, finally breaking their embrace to look at her. Belle nodded, returning his gaze.

"I think Mrs. Potts might need rescuing from Papa," she added with a grin. "I haven't seen him smile like that since my mother was alive." Adam chuckled and offered her his arm.

"Let's go," he said with a smile. "Though your father could do worse." Belle giggled and nodded, nearly giddy with combined joy of the idea of her father falling in love again and having Adam's forgiveness.

* * *

Sure enough, when Adam and Belle entered the small dining room, Maurice was chatting to Mrs. Potts who was pouring him a cup of tea. Belle and Adam exchanged meaningful glances and joined Belle's father at the table.

"Hello, Papa," Belle said with a smile as she sat. "Mrs. Potts, thank you for showing my father here. Would you like to join us?" She motioned to the empty chair beside her father and barely suppressed a grin when both she and her father blushed.

"Oh, no thank you dear," Mrs. Potts recovered herself. "I've got chores to get along with." And without another word, Mrs. Potts made a hasty exit.

"I'm glad you two have decided to join me after all," Maurice said quickly. "I thought maybe you forgot about me."

"I just needed to speak to Belle about something, monsieur," Adam explained. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting." He was so polite when speaking to her father, Belle realized. Perhaps he was still trying to win his favor.

"Have you gone to see your new workshop yet, Papa?" she asked as she served him several sausages. The happy side effect of the castle's enchantment on him seemed to have cured him, but she was going to make certain he kept his strength up.

"No, not yet. I was hoping to take a look after breakfast actually. I've just got to get my bearings. This place is massive, you know." Belle laughed and agreed.

"It took me awhile, too. Maybe Adam can show us both after breakfast?" She looked to Adam who nodded quickly in agreement.

"I don't really know what you might need to work with, monsieur. If there's anything you require, just ask and I'll make sure you get it."

"Thank you, your highness," Belle's father said gratefully with a nod. "And you can just call me Maurice." She saw Adam's face drop into an expression of surprise and watched him glance at her. She lifted her eyebrows and gave an almost unperceivable nod to indicate that Adam should return the sentiment.

"And you can just call me Adam," he said and Belle smiled down at her plate. Adam still needed her approval and, while she wished he felt comfortable enough to figure such things out himself, it was rather endearing that he looked to her for help.

* * *

Maurice's new workshop was massive, the stone walls reaching two stories high and wider than their entire cottage had been. Tools and supplies lines the walls and covered worktables; anything her father could possibly think about using seemed to be there.

"Oh, _Papa_," she breathed and put her hands on her father's shoulders as she stood behind him. "Papa, this is wonderful!" Maurice himself seemed speechless, staring at his surroundings with an open mouth.

"Where did you get all of this?" she asked Adam as her father began to wander the room, every so often picking up a tool to examine it.

"Well the room wasn't being used and many of the tools we already had. I sent some of the servants to some surrounding towns for the rest and I asked them to hurry," he said with a shrug.

"You've made him so happy," she said and took hold of his arm as she watched her father explore the room. "Thank you." Belle reached up to kiss his cheek and Adam smiled.

"I want him to feel welcome here. Especially after everything I've done to him."

"You know he's forgiven you," she reminded him but before she could say anything else, her father rejoined them with a wide grin.

"Thank you, Adam," he exclaimed and shook Adam's hand vigorously. "This is perfect! Now if only I had my machine here I could get to work."

"I can have someone get it for you," Adam offered. "It can be here tomorrow if you want." Maurice looked surprised, but quickly agreed.

"I should go and make sure they do it right, though," he insisted and Belle grinned. Her father would never let anyone touch his inventions without his permission.

"I'll arrange it," Adam promised. "There are sketchbooks on that table for now." He motioned to a table by the one large window, allowing plenty of light into the room. Belle also noticed several lanterns that would allow her father to work into the night as he often did.

"We'll leave you to your work, Papa," she offered. "Do you remember how to get back to your room from here?"

"Yes, yes," he said distractedly as he sharpened a piece of charcoal to start sketching.

"Come on," she whispered and led Adam back out into the hall. "I'll check on him later and make sure he _does_ remember where he is."

"He'll be all right by himself?" Adam asked, glancing back towards the workroom door.

"Of course. He's only sketching now, anyway. It's when he starts building that you'd need to worry. I try not to, but I know that eventually he'll get caught by one of his explosions."

"_Explosions?"_

"Only small ones," she insisted. "That's why the room needed to be sturdy and have good ventilation. He'll be _fine_." Adam glanced once more towards the door but only nodded. "Would you like to go read in the library?" she suggested. "I believe you were reading me _Romeo and Juliet_."

"That seems so long ago now," he grunted as they walked towards the library. "So much has happened since then."

"I know what you mean. But it's still just you and me, like it's always been." This seemed to drive away the remaining sorrow from Adam's eyes and Belle was confident the event from early that morning was behind them.


	24. Chapter 24

Belle wandered the halls while her father was in his new workroom and Adam appeased Cogsworth by overseeing some details to the castle's upkeep. She and Adam had just started reading _Romeo and Juliet_ when Cogsworth requested Adam's help. She shouldn't have been surprised that the servants needed Adam, but Belle felt a bit overlooked as a result. She supposed that this was only the first in a long chain of interruptions they would have to endure and tried to keep herself busy by seeing what the servants were up to.

As she walked alone through the halls, she couldn't help but notice that every servant she came across (and it was still so odd seeing them as human) seemed to be rather excited about something. She didn't have long to wonder about this; nearly every servant she passed came up to her to ask her opinion on the upcoming celebration Adam had promised them. Bewildered at their desire for her opinion, she answered them as best she could, whether it be for a menu detail or the color of the flowers she desired. Of course Belle had no idea what Adam had in mind, and honestly she doubted he had thought that much about it, so she supposed that answering these questions would not be taken badly by him.

"Thank you, Mistress," they almost always said after she answered their questions, which surprised her even more than the requests themselves. After this happened several times, she decided to seek out Adam to ask him about it.

"They consider you the Mistress of the castle, of course," he replied nonchalantly when she found him again in the library, having apparently escaped Cogsworth. "They have for some time, but I think they've gotten more comfortable saying it out loud."

"But why?" she pressed. "You're Master here. I'm just a guest."

Adam raised an eyebrow at her. "You've been more than a guest here since you recovered from the wound the wolf gave you. And you weren't very shy about giving direction before then, anyway."

"I only—" she started to protest, but stopped when Adam began to chuckle.

"I'm glad you did. They came alive again when you arrived at the castle, and you did nothing but help that along. And honestly I'm glad they're asking you and not me. I don't know the first thing about celebrations like this."

"It was a good idea, though. It's just the thing they need, I think." Adam nodded but said nothing and she changed the subject.

* * *

Beast's POV

He was glad the servants were looking forward to the celebration and even more delighted to hear that they so easily accepted Belle's authority, but that led back to the terrifying question of where his relationship with Belle would go. He loved her more than anything and would give the world to be with her, but to do so would require courage he did not have. They very thought of it sent his hands shaking and his stomach twisting uncomfortably.

He was able to ignore the frightening and thrilling prospect the rest of that week by focusing on getting Belle and her father settled in. He was overjoyed that Belle's father had agreed to live in the castle with them since, as Maurice had pointed out that first day of Adam's humanity, it meant that Adam wouldn't lose Belle again. But Adam was also eager for the chance to make up for his unforgivable behavior towards Maurice and make him comfortable.

Maurice seemed to like his workroom, which was a good start, and Adam made sure to thank the servants who had gone to find the supplies he needed, but it made Adam slightly nervous when Maurice asked to retrieve his invention from home. Not because it wasn't possible, but Belle had decided she wanted to go back to the cottage as well.

She wanted to fetch her things from the cottage to make her move to the castle permanent, which should have delighted him but instead he feared that once she returned to her home in the village, she wouldn't want to come back. Adam tried to remind himself that she had come back to him once already and that he needed to trust she would again, but it still made him nervous to let her go.

He was not only concerned that she might not return, but also worried for her safety. Gaston was no longer a threat, but would the villagers be looking for revenge? Based on what Belle had told him, Gaston was quite popular amongst them. Would they connect Belle to his death and, if so, what would they do?

So he found himself asking if he could go with her.

"Oh! You—you really want to?" she asked. Belle looked surprised at his request and at first Adam was afraid she's say no.

"I'd like to see where you live," he admitted truthfully. It might not have been the _entire_ truth, but it was certainly part of it.

"_Lived_, you mean," she corrected and Adam grinned. Perhaps she would come back to the castle after all. "I'd like that," Belle continued, her sweet smile making his heart beat faster as it always had. "But. . .are you going as a Prince, or just as yourself?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, now that the enchantment is lifted. . .we haven't really talked about this at all. But are you going to tell the world you're back, or do you want to try and stay hidden here? If you're going to come with me and Papa, that's something you should probably decide."

"Oh. I, uh. . .I hadn't really thought about it." Which wasn't true, of course, but he was reluctant to reveal to Belle his thoughts about his father and about her. "Can't we. . . I mean, can't I just go with you quietly and then see what happens later on? I really haven't been with people since I was a boy and. . ." he trailed off, unwilling to admit he was terrified of the crowd that would gather as the result of an announcement of a prince arriving in town. He had never been comfortable in front of crowds, and his years of near solitude were unlikely to have made it any better, something that was made clear when he tried to give the speech to his servants just after the enchantment's end.

"I think that's a wonderful idea. You've only just become human again, after all. There's no need to overwhelm you. But I think you'll have a hard time convincing Cogsworth." Belle was smiling, but her tone was serious. Adam agreed with her; it would be difficult to convince Cogsworth to let him go into town without making a royal affair out of it. Cogsworth had always been one for pomp and circumstance, but Adam wasn't ready for it. He sincerely doubted he would ever be ready to rejoin the world in such a position, but two days after he had become human again was surely too much to ask.

Adam managed to convince Cogsworth to let him go with Belle, Maurice, and four strong servants who had volunteered to help with the move, but Adam had the distinct impression he had hurt Cogsworth's pride. Belle helped him pick out a simple brown leather jerkin to wear and together they arranged three empty wagons to facilitate Belle and Maurice's belongings back to the castle. Adam was surprised how well the wagons had withstood ten years of sitting unused, though as he examined them he spotted several noticeable patch jobs. Adam smiled, knowing that some of the servants must have repaired them for Belle during the night.

Belle took her place in the seat of the first wagon and together she and Adam helped her father up to sit beside her. Unwilling to be far from Belle, Adam climbed into the back of the open wagon, stretching out and finding it surprisingly comfortable. Belle started the small convoy of wagons moving and Adam watched for a moment as the servants gathered at the front of the castle waved goodbye. He couldn't resist giving a bit of a wave himself, excited to be leaving the castle and seeing something new for the first time in so long.

"So how far is the village?" Adam asked as he turned away from the disappearing castle to face Belle. She glanced back quickly to smile at him but resumed her duty of directing the horses pulling the wagon.

"Not far. It's only little over an hour or so from here at this pace," she replied. "I'm afraid it will take at least the entire day for us to go through the house, though."

"I hope my machine's still somewhat intact," Maurice put in. "That little teacup did quite a number on it."

"What do you mean?" Adam asked curiously.

"Oh, Chip stowed away in my bag the night I went back home," Belle explained. "Gaston locked my father and I in the cellar so we couldn't warn you about what he was planning to do, but Chip used Papa's cutting machine to break us out. I'm afraid it's in quite a lot of pieces though, Papa. But I know you can fix it." Adam watched as Belle put her arm around Maurice's shoulders and turned away to give them a moment, watching instead the two additional wagons that traveled behind them while the servants driving them stared in awe at the surroundings. He realized with a start that they hadn't left the castle in years either. After being cooped up in the castle for ten years, many of them without even hands or feet, it was no wonder some of them wanted to leave.

The wagons made it through the trees, though once or twice they had to dislodge their wheels from between rocks and tree roots. As they drew out of the trees, Adam took in his new surroundings. To his right a short distance away he could see a bridge that led to what could only be the village. But what interested him most was what Belle was leading the wagons towards: Belle's cottage.

It was a charming place built of stone and wood set away from the village. Adam could see some of the details of the house that could only have been Maurice's work, such as the odd weathervane, the gears that connected some sort of windmill to something he could not see, and the rather ingenious water wheel. Adam was surprised at how small the cottage truly was, but its gentle charm perfectly befit someone like Belle.

"Here we are," Belle announced as she pulled the wagon up to the front door. "We should get to work. Would you four mind starting upstairs in the attic? If you could just pack the trunks you'll find into the wagons, Papa and I can go through them when have more time back at the castle." The servants who had followed them in the two additional wagons bowed and went to do as she bid. Adam watched Belle blush at being bowed to, but said nothing. "What do you think?" she asked him, motioning to the house as the servants disappeared through the front door.

"It's beautiful," he said honestly as he climbed out of the wagon. "It reminds me of a cottage from one of your storybooks." Belle seemed flattered by this comment for a moment, but her smile quickly turned into a thoughtful frown. "What is it?" he asked, worried he had upset her. She waited several moments to reply while her father made his way towards what looked like a broken cellar door.

"It does, but I can't tell you how many times I wanted to leave," she finally confessed once her father was out of earshot. "I dreamed of adventure, something this provincial town could not give me. When we moved here from the city I was angry for being so far removed from the places I imagined I would go. Though it took several years of waiting and wishing, I never thought I had an adventure waiting for me all the way out here," she finished with an excited smile at him. Adam's heart fluttered, daring to believe that the adventure she spoke of was perhaps referring to meeting him.

"Was it worth it? The adventure, I mean," he asked, following her towards the door.

"Oh yes," she replied easily. "I found love, after all, which was a much more exciting journey than I ever thought it would be. Come, I'll show you around." She led him inside the small cottage and Adam had to duck his head to avoid hitting the low frame.

Inside, Adam could see evidence of Belle all around the house; the bookshelves by the fireplace, the open book that still lay on the table, even the cushioned chair all painted a quaint picture of Belle's daily life in the village. It wasn't hard for Adam to picture Belle curled up in the cushioned chair with a book or bending over the fire to make herself tea. He walked over to the open book and gently touched its dusty pages; clearly this had lain open since Belle had left.

"I'm surprised Papa didn't put that away," Belle said, coming up beside him and dusting the pages off lovingly.

"It was probably easier to imagine you hadn't left that way," he muttered. If he had been able to picture Belle sitting to read that book so clearly, what must it have been like for her father all those months staring at that book?

"If you're going to be like this the entire stay, I'll send you home right now," she said and Adam was surprised to hear a small edge to her voice. "My father has forgiven you for what you did; you need to forgive yourself now, too." Her voiced eased and she placed a hand on his arm. Only then did he dare look at her, those beautiful brown eyes never lost their kindness, even when scolding him.

"I'm sorry," he said a bit shamefully. "I'm trying."

"I know you are," she assured him and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. "In here's the kitchen and the back door that leads to where we kept the animals," she motioned to a doorway to his right.

"You have animals?"

"Just some chickens and a couple goats. I always leave their feed out, so they should have been fine these past couple days, but I'm sure they're a bit unhappy."

"Shall we check on them?" he offered, curious to see these animals.

"Oh, yes I suppose," she said, sounding a bit surprised at his suggestion, and led the way outside.

Adam had never seen goats or chickens up close before. They had a few of the small beasts at the castle when he was a boy, but he never bothered with them, thinking them too dirty and beneath him.

The animals seemed no worse for their three days of solitude, though their feed was getting a bit low. He watched with an amused grin as the chickens frantically dove towards the seeds Belle scattered on the ground for them in a flurry of feathers. It was a much different sport than feeding the small wild birds at the castle; the chickens were much less graceful and more greedy to reach the seeds first. The goats ignored this uproar, chewing placidly on their own food and seemingly oblivious to the world around them.

"They seem to be all right to me," Belle said as she finished spreading the chicken feed. "I'll have to find someone to buy them before we leave, though. Unless you want them at the castle."

"We might find some use for them. Cogsworth can stop sending for so much milk and eggs if you would be willing to bring them."

"That's something I've always wondered about," Belle said suddenly, turning towards him and leaning on a post of the overhang that protected the animals. "You weren't getting anything from the surrounding lands, since none of them knew you existed. At least, I know this village had no idea about your castle. But you always seemed to have anything I ever needed, at least as far as food and clothes. Where did it all come from?"

"Well the food I had sent in from the main castle in my family, where my father lives. . .or lived. But some of the clothes you wore were my mothers, like that yellow ball gown," he admitted.

"Oh, Adam I didn't know. I wouldn't have worn them if. . ." she looked upset by this news, so Adam took hold of her shoulders and merely smiled.

"I'm _glad_ you wore them, Belle. And once the servants discovered you were my mother's size, they were able to send for others. But I will never forget how you looked that night we danced together when you wore that dress."

In a what he considered to be a daring and perhaps even an inspired move, he slipped his hands from her shoulders to hold her as he had when he danced with her as the Beast, one hand on her waist and the other gently enveloping her hand. He was rewarded with a delicate blush in Belle's cheeks and he began to slowly dance with her in the yard. His heart started beating faster as he guided her in gentle, small turns and nearly burst when Belle rested her head once more on his chest, bringing him back to the moment they had shared in the ballroom. But this time, he felt a bit braver knowing Belle loved him and leaned down to gently kiss the top of her head.

"Ahem," a voice interrupted Adam's blissful thoughts and startled him into breaking away from Belle. Maurice stood in the yard, apparently having just come out of the backdoor in search of them. Adam was embarrassed to have been caught with Maurice's daughter in his arms, but the old man was unsuccessfully hiding a grin.

"We should get to work if we're going to get anything done," he said merrily, and Adam nodded, unable to find his voice.

"Of course, Papa," Belle agreed and moved to take Adam's hand. "We'll come help you clean out your workroom." Belle gently pulled him towards the cellar doors, turning every so often to smile warmly at him, a gesture which he willingly returned.


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you to all my readers for such wonderful reviews! I love reading them and am thrilled you're enjoying the story!**

* * *

Adam had never worked so hard in his life. Barring a few days in the castle spent mending the roof of the castle or barricading windows against storms, he couldn't remember the last time he had been so tired or so sore. Every muscle in his body ached and he cursed himself for being unable to accept that he was no longer as strong as the Beast. It was odd for him to no longer be able to lift large amounts of weight; not long ago he was able to send large pieces of furniture flying across rooms, but now he could lift nothing heavier than a small table by himself. He kept these thoughts to himself, though, and merely tried to keep from moving his sore muscles more than he had to.

Though they had worked diligently through the day (barring those few stolen moments dancing in the yard) and had filled all three of the wagons, Belle's house had yet to be emptied.

"It's just as well," Belle said as they surveyed the wagons laden with trunks and furniture. "I should go into town tomorrow and announce that the house is open to be used by someone else."

"Should we return to the castle tonight?" Adam asked, though a large part of him was not looking forward to further abusing his sore muscles to the harsh bouncing of the wagons. The novelty of riding in the wagon that morning had long since worn off and left nothing but dread at the thought of riding on the hard wooden structure.

"I think I'd like to stay here," Belle said, turning to look back at the cottage. Adam mimicked her and was amazed that despite all the work they had done, from the outside it was hard to tell that anything changed. But Adam knew that once they went through the door, the house was practically bare. They had taken much of the furniture from the house at Maurice's request so he could reuse them, though for what purpose Adam could only imagine. As a result, the wagons filled quite a bit faster than they had anticipated.

"I think we should send the servants back tonight though so they can bring an empty wagon or two for the rest," he suggested, motioning to the laden wagons in front of them. "I'll go with them if you like, but if it's all right with you and your father I'd like to stay here. So we can get an early start tomorrow." Truthfully he did feel a bit uneasy about leaving Belle behind and hoped she would allow him to stay in the house that night.

"I think that's a good idea. I'll go into town and get something for us to eat for dinner, then," she said with a smile.

"You weren't going to before?" Adam was shocked and suddenly glad he suggested that he stay if that meant that Belle would have a proper meal.

"Oh well there's still some things in the house but not enough for three," she said quickly but Adam wasn't entirely convinced.

"I'll make sure with your father that it's all right that I stay and then tell the servants to return in the morning," he said, letting the subject drop. "May I come with you to the village?"

"I'd like that," she said and Adam couldn't help but smile. It was so comforting to know that Belle enjoyed his company, even after all that had happened between them and all that she knew about his past.

"Maurice?" he called as he went inside the cottage. It looked odd seeing the main room so bare; Belle's bookshelves had been cleared out, the table was gone, even the rug had been rolled up to be taken back to the castle. Adam wasn't sure what Maurice wanted with all the old furniture, but it wasn't his place to question it.

Maurice wasn't anywhere to be found on the main floor, so he went up the stairs to see if he was in his room. Sure enough, the door was open and Adam could glimpse Maurice inside. He knocked on the door and waited for Maurice to respond before entering. Belle's father was sitting on his bed, arms resting on his legs and gazing at the frame of a portrait that sat on the floor and leaned against the wall. Adam walked a bit further inside the room and was able to better see the subjects of the painting.

There was a little girl in a blue dress with a sweet, gentle expression sitting beside a woman in pink. Together they held what appeared to be a story book and sat in a chair surrounded by flowers.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" Maurice asked and Adam noticed the wistful tone in his voice.

"Oh, yes very," he agreed readily. "Is that Belle?" He pointed to the child in the blue dress, though by the sweet countenance and familiar brown eyes Adam was sure it could not be anyone else.

"Mhm, and her mother beside her." Adam took a closer look at the woman in the painting. There was a definite similarity between them, though her mother's eyes were a green-blue and her hair was a shade lighter than Belle's.

"She's beautiful," Adam said, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. He knew that Belle's mother had died when Belle was young and Maurice was doubtless feeling a bit nostalgic for his wife, but Adam had no idea how to act in such a situation. He knew he should try to comfort the old man, but what could he say?

"She had so many suitors," Maurice started and Adam sighed in relief, spared the responsibility of breaking the silence between them. "All of them rich, handsome men, but she chose me. She always said she saw something in me that no one else had. I never understood what she meant, but Belle seems to have figured it out." Adam understood that Maurice meant how Belle was able to see into his own soul as Belle's mother saw into Maurice's and he had the good sense to realize he had just been given the highest of compliments.

"It shall have a place of honor in the castle," he declared. "Wherever you wish it to hang, it will."

"Thank you, lad. I think I'd like it to be in the library. She was always so fond of books, you know."

"Belle told me it's because of her mother that she learned to love books so much," he admitted.

Maurice chuckled and stood with a sigh. "You couldn't have found a better way to win her heart than by giving her that library, you know."

"I only wanted her to be happy," he protested. "She had done me a great service and I wanted to do something in return that would make her feel comfortable in my castle."

"What service was that?" Maurice asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She stood up to me," he confessed, allowing himself a grin. To his surprise, Maurice started to laugh and clapped him on the shoulder.

"She's a good girl. But you came in to ask me something, didn't you?"

"Oh, uh well Belle wanted to stay here for the night so we can get started early tomorrow. I was hoping I could. . .if I could get your permission to stay here tonight." He was suddenly nervous, as if asking such a thing was inappropriate and would make Maurice angry.

"Belle's a grown woman now, she can make her own decisions about the man she loves." Adam tried not to blush at these words. "But I'd also enjoy your company tonight. You've been a great help to us."

"Thank you," he said with a slight, polite bow. "Belle and I are going to go into town to find something to make for dinner. I'm sending the servants back to the castle to return tomorrow with another empty wagon or two."

"Yes, yes I'm glad we had room for all this mess. I had so many ideas to improve some of the furniture in this house for years but of course Belle forbade it. I suppose getting rid of tables and chairs we used every day was a bit ambitious of me, but now I can do as I like with them."

"Of course you can," Adam confirmed merrily, though he was still very confused at what Maurice could possibly have in mind for the furniture. "We'll be back soon," he promised as he left Maurice and the portrait behind to rejoin Belle outside.

"Ready?" Belle asked, an empty basket now hanging from the crook of her elbow.

"Let's go," he replied, excited to see the village Belle had told him so much about. As the servants made their way back towards the castle in their laden wagons, Adam and Belle started in the opposite direction, walking arm in arm towards town.

* * *

Belle's POV

Adam was certainly excited about visiting the village; he was practically pulling at her to walk faster as they crossed the bridge and along the road. She tried to remember that Adam had been cooped up in his castle for ten years and this was an entirely new experience for him, but she found it hard to believe that this simple, provincial village could spark anyone's interest.

As they passed the outskirts and into the town square however, Belle was aghast at the rather unsettling change in the previously predictable village. Though the square was bustling with people, there was an odd, unnatural hush over the crowds. It wasn't silent by any means, but oddly muffled as if the people were lacked the strength or were simply unwilling to haggle and argue as loudly as they once had.

To make it worse, as Belle walked with Adam through the crowds, the people they passed stopped talking altogether and turned to blatantly gawk at her. She was used to their stares, though usually she was able to ignore them behind the pages of her books and the people would still go about their business, at least having the decency to give the illusion they weren't staring at her. But now they showed no sign of pretending, gawking at her shamelessly and Belle thought perhaps even angrily.

"What's going on?" Adam asked, looking around at the villagers.

"I don't know," she responded in little more than a whisper. She was beginning to feel very uneasy under so many withering gazes and looked for somewhere to escape to. "In here," she said suddenly and pulled Adam into the door of the bookshop. If there was anywhere she could get a reprieve from the villagers' behavior, it was there.

"Belle? What are you doing here, child?" Belle sighed in relief as she spotted the speaker: an old, kind-hearted man who had energetically fueled her love of books since she moved to the village.

"It's good to see you, monsieur." She was immediately at ease inside the bookstore, even the musty shelves seemed to greet her as they stood at attention, holding the stories she loved so dearly. "How have you been?"

"Oh, just fine, my dear. Though I do miss my best customer, of course. I heard there was some commotion up your way a few days ago. Is everything all right with your father?"

Belle took a moment to answer, swallowing the sudden memory of that horrible night when the Beast was dying in her arms. She took hold of Adam's hand which gave her strength. "Yes, thank you," she finally replied. "But I'm sure you've heard about Gaston." She had not thought about Gaston in quite awhile and felt a pang of guilt at the lack of courtesy she had shown towards his death. He had never been the kindest of men, but his death was an unnecessary tragedy.

"Yes, poor man. Finally bit off more than he could chew. I knew that would happen one day; giants fall the furthest, after all. The town is taking it very hard; nearly everyone's been moping about wailing about his death. They've practically enshrined his place at the tavern. Many of them seem to think you were involved in his death, my dear."

"That would explain why they're looking at me so strangely," Belle realized, understanding the villagers' peculiar actions.

"But it wasn't your fault," Adam protested and Belle heard defensive anger in his voice.

"I'm afraid that's entirely irrelevant, young man." Belle noticed him look oddly at Adam, apparently trying to size up this stranger.

"This is Adam," she introduced quickly and simply. It was too complicated and too dangerous a story to tell, especially now with the villagers acting so strangely because of Gaston's death. Such a tale would doubtless get back to them and their reaction could not be safely predicted now.

"Nice to meet you, I'm sure," the older man said with a raised eyebrow. He looked to Belle for answers, but she only smiled as sweetly as she could and changed the subject to suit her own curiosity.

"Do you know why they believe I'm involved?"

"Well you know I'm not one for gossip, but from what I've heard your father was running about saying you were imprisoned somewhere by some sort of monster. You _weren't_ were you?" he asked, still eyeing Adam suspiciously.

"Nothing of the sort," she dismissed easily. "It was just a misunderstanding. So this rumor began spreading. . ." she prodded.

"Yes. Though no one really believed all that nonsense about a beast, they _were_ wondering where you were all that time." He paused with purpose, but Belle remained silent and after a moment he continued. "Then suddenly you returned and stirred up those rumors again. I say, are you _sure_ there wasn't a beast? Nearly everyone seems to be telling tales of a fierce monster ten feet tall with fangs and breathed fire or some such rot."

"There was never a beast," she confirmed and, in a way it was true. Really it was just a heartbroken, confused man all that time. She felt Adam shift uncomfortably and for his sake tried to draw the bookseller as quickly as she could through his tale.

"I suppose they blame you for luring Gaston to his death," the bookseller finally finished after retelling all that Belle already encountered that horrible night. "You know how they admired him so. And there's some confusion about what exactly happened that night. Some men ranted for a few days about talking furniture attacking them, but they were quickly shushed and no one's mentioned it since."

"Well, I'm very sorry he's dead, but I had no part in his decision to go chase after some imaginary animal," she said, perhaps a bit too curtly, but she was hardly to blame for Gaston's insanely inflated ego.

"I'm sure you're not sorry that he can't pester you about marrying you, though," he said and Belle stifled a gasp. The bookseller was usually very kind, but occasionally he could say something that shocked her. This day was apparently no exception.

"That was rude," Adam remarked angrily.

"It's all right," Belle said quickly, putting a hand on Adam's arm hoping to calm him before anyone was offended. She turned back to the bookseller to say "Gaston was an oaf; his ego was his downfall and I _am_ sorry he's dead, but I'm also glad he will no longer hurt anyone the way he carried on around here. The villagers will stop mourning and move on with their lives, and I will do the same."

"And I know you'll be very happy, child," the bookseller said merrily, showing no sign he had just insulted Belle. She took a breath and remembered that he always meant well.

"Thank you. My father and I are leaving the village tomorrow," she informed him, hoping he wouldn't ask too many questions. "Thank you for all that you've done for me."

"You're welcome, my dear. You made an old man's lonely life a bit less dull. Now go return to your father."

With a final nod, Belle led the way back out into the cruel gaze of the villagers. As quickly as she could, Belle filled her basket with food for dinner, ignoring the villagers as best she could. Adam silently followed her, his protective presence never far from her side and apparently just as eager to leave the village as he was to arrive.

"Belle, we shouldn't go back there," Adam fumed as they turned their backs on the village. "If those people hate you so much for something you didn't do. . ." Belle could see he was working himself up into a proper rage.

"Adam, it's all right," she cooed. "We won't have to go back. I—I can't go back." She let her mind wander back to the villagers and suddenly found herself suffocated by the faces of the villagers she saw swimming in her mind's eye; they were too close, too cruel. They didn't understand. All they cared about was Gaston, as it had always been, but now it had come to the point where they had exiled her. How could she have expected anything different? This village had undergone a great shock to their simple livelihoods and it was all because of her. She couldn't escape from the vision of the blatant and cruel looks she received; it crowded her mind until it was all she could see, completely losing sight of the road in front of her.

"Belle?" she heard Adam's voice call to her, but it was lost amongst the chaos that suddenly clouded her mind. Once again she saw Gaston's cruel smile after he had stabbed the Beast, watched as the man fell to his death. He had gone to the castle out of jealousy, hadn't he? Jealousy for her. Despite what Adam said, perhaps his death _was_ her fault, just as the villagers thought. It was too overwhelming, too horrible to think that she had caused so much destruction. Her mind began to go blank and she felt faint, but she forced herself to remain upright.

"Take me home," she requested, holding her hand out to Adam though she still couldn't see passed the villager's gawking faces. Her voice sounded weak in her ears and she tried to pull herself together, but the images in her mind refused to leave her.

She felt Adam's arm slip around her shoulders and blindly followed his lead, leaning into his body as she tried to push the tormenting images away. Vaguely she was aware that they had left the village and were approaching the bridge towards the cottage. She was finally safe from those cruel gazes, from the whispered rumors about what she had done.

"Are you all right?" Adam asked as he helped her walk towards safety. She shook her head and pressed herself closer to him, absorbing the warmth and protection she felt from his presence. "They had no right to act that way," he continued as his arm wrapped more tightly around her. "It wasn't your fault. He was _hunting _me, Belle. He was angry and, from what you and that old man said, killing me was the only way he could think to keep the upper hand he seemed to think he had."

She tried to let his words comfort her as they were meant to, but she kept seeing Gaston's face as he fell into the ravine, quickly followed by the relentless stares of the villagers. She let Adam lead her inside the cottage and into a chair by the fire. Belle knew she needed to try and pull herself together, but never before had she felt such hatred concentrated in one place. It was stifling and overwhelming, and having it all directed at her made it hard for her to even breathe.

Vaguely she was aware that Adam and her father were talking, but they didn't seem to be speaking to her and so she ignored them, focusing instead on how to manage the betrayal of the entire village. How could they think she was responsible for Gaston's death? _Was_ she responsible for his death? She couldn't be sure anymore.

"Belle?" Adam's voice called to her and she noticed him kneeling in front of her. She tried to smile at him but she couldn't quite manage it. He took her hands where they lay in her lap. "Belle, you can't let them treat you like this. You _know_ you didn't do anything wrong, don't you? You said it yourself, you had nothing to do with his decision. If anything it's my fault. I caused him to fall off balance after he stabbed me." Belle winced at the memory.

"He's right," her father came up to her now. "This isn't your fault. I was _there_, remember? He was set on causing damage to anything you loved. At first it was me, but then he turned his attention to the Beast."

"Because I showed him the mirror," she interrupted, looking at her hands clasped with Adam's. She did not deserve to be there with him after she all but set Gaston on him.

"To save your father, Belle," Adam added. "If you had done nothing, your father would be in an asylum. Would you feel any better then?" Belle imagined her father being torn away to a cell in the notorious asylum and shivered.

"I could have just married him," but even as she spoke she knew she couldn't have done that. To be married to that monster would mean to lose herself entirely, to be a mere trophy to show off to the village who would bear his seven sons. She would fight against him for awhile, but doubtless Gaston would find some other way to hurt her spirit.

"No you couldn't," her father said knowingly. "Not even if it would save everything you loved. You've never compromised yourself before, you weren't going to do it with the most important aspect of your life."

"You'll never have to go through anything like that ever again, Belle," Adam assured her. "Those people are going to believe what they want to no matter what you tell them. But you won't have to be ever have to near them again if you don't want to. Everyone at the castle loves you and knows what good you've done."

Belle was grateful for both her father and Adam's support and knew that there was truth to what they said. She took a deep breath and tried to finally drive away the images of the villagers' anger. They didn't know the true story; if they had, and if they could even believe it, surely they would understand that what happened to Gaston was not her fault after all.

"You're also tired and hungry after such a long day," her father added, picking up the basket of food where she had abandoned it on the floor by her chair. "After a good meal and some sleep you'll feel good as new."

"You mean _you're _hungry and are just finding an excuse to get supper started," she teased, able to find her smile for the first time since she had left the village. "All right, I'll get it started."

"I'll help," Adam offered, causing Belle to pause as she started rising from the chair.

"That's very kind of you, but you don't have to," she insisted.

"I want to," he said and took the basket from her father.

"I'll do some more packing, I think," her father said. "Belle knows all to well how good of a cook I am." Belle giggled and nodded; her father could hardly boil water without setting something on fire, be it himself or the pot. She had been cooking for both of them since she was ten, her neighbors in the city graciously helping her after her mother died until she was old enough to do it herself.

Her father returned to the cellar and she and Adam went into the kitchen to start dinner. It was clear Adam had never done anything like this before, but she could tell that he was doing his best. But it was nice to have some company for a change, especially one so eager to help. Belle was still a bit stuck in the events of that evening, but when Adam somehow dropped the bag of flour, sending a cloud of it directly into his face, Belle burst out in uncontrollably laughter. Adam grinned as she laughed and wiped the flour from his face.

"Here," she offered, still helplessly giggling and raised a clean cloth to his face to help remove the flour.

"It tastes awful," he complained good-naturedly as she carefully wiped flour from his eyebrows.

"Well you're not meant to eat it by itself," she giggled.

"I know, I know. I didn't know it was going to just _explode_ like that," he chuckled.

"There, I think I got all of it," she declared.

"You promise? I don't want to be walking around with a white nose or something."

"I promise."

"Good, because now I can do this without getting you covered in flour," he leaned down and kissed her. Belle melted into his kiss, realizing she needed such an embrace after the shock of that evening and pulled him still closer.

"You lied," he said when they broke apart. Belle looked at him, confused by what he could mean. Adam raised a hand to her cheek and gently rubbed at a spot with his thumb. "You didn't get all the flour after all." Belle raised a hand to the spot Adam touched and felt a smudge of flour there.

"I guess I did," she said with a giggle and wiped it off.

"What's next?" he asked and turned back to their task. Belle led him through the preparations of the meal and realized what he had done for her; by insisting that he help her, he ensured that she was too busy instructing him to dwell on her own grim thoughts. She smiled now as they worked, a warm wave of gratitude for all that he had done for her growing inside her chest.


	26. Chapter 26

Belle slept poorly that night, as she had feared she would. Occasionally she would lapse into slumber but was always woken quickly by the leering faces of the villagers. In the deepest part of the night, she found herself wishing she was back in the castle so she could find peace in the library. She couldn't even look for solace in her own books, since they had all been packed away and waiting for her at the castle. Even if they weren't, Adam was stretched out to sleep in front of the fireplace by the bookshelves. She wouldn't want to wake him, not after all he had done for her and her father that day. So she only paced the length of her small room, stopping occasionally to watch the moon's journey across the night sky.

The moon was bright that night, but the stars were brighter still, seeming to wink at her from their place in the dark blanket above. She couldn't help but be reminded of the night she and Adam had shared in the ballroom; the stars had been bright that night too and everything seemed so wonderful, like a chapter from one of her storybooks. Was it truly less than a week ago that she had danced in the Beast's arms? So much had happened since then, both good and bad, it seemed almost a lifetime away.

Belle hugged her arms and leaned against the windowsill, breathing in the cool night air as she looked up to the skies. Tomorrow they would return to the castle and Belle would be home for good. Even now her room seemed odd to her and it was clear that she no longer belonged here. She couldn't wait to go back to the castle and live her life there with Adam.

She made not attempt hold back the smile at the very thought of it, and inevitably her mind wandered to the anticipation of Adam possibly proposing to her. He loved her, didn't he? And she was living in his castle, after all, surely a proposal couldn't be far away. Belle shivered in excitement at the sudden vision of walking down an aisle towards Adam.

She shook her head and told herself to stop being silly. Adam was barely a week out of a ten year enchantment and under pressure from the possibility of resuming his royal duties. The last thing on Adam's mind would be proposing to her. But she would wait for as long as he needed and she would be beside him through everything he would face.

She shivered again, this time from the cool air, and retreated back to her bed to huddle under the covers. The idea of marrying Adam was thrilling, but she could wait until he was ready.

* * *

Beast's POV

Belle looked exhausted when she came downstairs that morning and Adam knew she had to have been kept awake by what the villagers had done to her. He had been so worried about her after what happened yesterday; neither of them had expected the villagers to act so cruelly, but Belle had clearly taken badly. He had done his best to cheer her up, but apparently hadn't accomplished much based on the dark circles under her eyes. But when he went to her, knowing his face expressed all the worry he felt for her, she smiled sweetly at him as she always had before.

"Were you comfortable enough down here?" she asked as she bent to prod the fire into life.

"Oh, yes very," he replied quickly. He didn't admit how odd it felt sleeping somewhere other than his castle, though. There were several times he woke during the night panicked and confused only to remember that he was in Belle's cottage. He was also a bit stiff from sleeping on the floor despite the blankets and cushions and his muscles ached from loading the wagons, but he was far more concerned about Belle.

"Are you all right?" he asked, gently placing what he hoped to be a comforting a hand on her shoulder.

"Of course. I'll be glad when we put the village behind us, though," she admitted with a guilty smile. Adam readily agreed; anyone who could treat Belle as harshly as those villagers had did not deserve to have her. He tried not to remember that he had once behaved even more callously towards Belle and forced himself to move passed it as Belle asked him so often to do.

"So we'd better get started then," he chose to say instead of all that he was thinking.

"Breakfast first," she insisted. "I'll wake Papa while it's cooking and we'll start work afterwards."

"Good idea, but before you do. . ." Adam pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest. Belle had given a little 'oh!' of surprise, but wrapped her arms around him all the same. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers, enjoying the way his mind slipped into bliss and forgot everything except her nearness.

"I will never get tired of that," Belle sighed when her lips were free.

"Good," Adam said and kissed her again. "Neither will I." After one more quick kiss he released her. "Now let's see to breakfast so we can pack up and return to the castle. I'm sure the servants are at their wits' end by now with preparing for the celebration without your help."

"Is that tomorrow?" she asked as she led him towards the kitchen. Adam silently counted the days in his head.

"The day after that, I think. That will give you and your father plenty of time to settle in with your things. Which reminds me, what _is_ your father planning to do with all that furniture?"

"Oh, who knows? He uses all sorts of odds and ends in his machines. For his last one he even took my tea pot. I was due for a new one though and didn't argue, but he never throws anything out if he can help it." Adam chuckled and started to realize what exactly he had gotten himself into with Maurice.

"Well I hope he doesn't try that at the castle. Mrs. Potts would have his head." Belle laughed and agreed.

* * *

The servants who had helped them the day before had arrived shortly after Adam, Belle, and Maurice had finished breakfast. With their help, the house was emptied in a matter of hours and only two of the three wagons had been filled.

"Is that everything?" he asked, dusting his hands after helping one of the servants, Frederick, load the trunk from Maurice's room into the wagon.

"I think so," Belle said slowly. "I'd better check to make sure." Adam noticed that Belle seemed a bit troubled and began to ask why before realizing it had to be because she was leaving her home behind.

"Perhaps your father can help you," he suggested, motioning to Maurice where he stood a little ways away from them, gazing at the cottage. They both needed to say goodbye to this place and close its door without regret. "I'll wait here."

Belle nodded and Adam watched as she took her father into the house one last time. He knew there would inevitably be some despair about leaving the cottage and it seemed best to give them the space to have it. Adam hoped he wasn't causing them too much distress, though. He didn't want them to feel forced to live in the castle, but both Belle and Maurice seemed willing enough to stay and he trusted that Belle would have told him otherwise.

When they disappeared behind the cottage door, Adam sent the two full wagons and all the servants on towards the castle, leaving the third nearly empty wagon for the three of them to ride alone. He leaned against the side of this third wagon and waited patiently for Belle and her father to emerge.

As he gazed about his surroundings idly, admiring how beautiful the growing spring was, he noticed a figure standing quite near the water wheel attached to the cottage. Adam's attention was caught by this figure and tried to see who was peaking at the house. It was a very odd looking man; he was the shortest person Adam had ever seen, with quite a large nose and bristly black hair tied behind his head. This odd man did not seem to notice that Adam was staring at him, so Adam decided to call out to him.

"Hello, there!" he called, hoping this would be considered a friendly greeting. The man jumped as if frightened and stared at Adam. He showed no sign of returning Adam's greeting, so Adam walked over to him, intent on learning why he was there. The man watched him walk towards him with a look of fright on his face and Adam tried to control his expression to avoid scaring him off.

"Nice day, isn't it?" Adam asked when he came within a few yards of the short man. He nodded quickly but still said nothing. "What's your name?" Adam tried a more direct question, hoping he could get something from this man.

"Lefou," he muttered and looked down at his shoes. "Why are you here?" Lefou asked suddenly, looking up sharply at Adam with an unexpected fury. Adam was surprised by this action and took a moment to respond.

"I'm taking Belle and Maurice away from here," he replied, unsure how much he should say. "The villagers here are cruel to Belle. She deserves something better, don't you think?" Lefou's only response was to look down at his shoes again.

"Lefou?" Belle's voice came from the door of the cottage. "What are you doing here?"

"You know this man?" Adam asked.

"Yes, he was Gaston's . . .um, closest friend." Adam took an involuntary step away from this strange little man.

"Then _you_ must have turned the village against Belle," he accused angrily. "She did nothing wrong! How could you do that to her?"

"I did _not_!" Lefou protested, his voice twisted into a pitiful whine. "I wasn't the only one there that night, you know. Everyone saw how angry Belle made Gaston. She practically challenged him to go after that stupid monster! Most of them saw Belle riding towards the castle too, _and_ saw Gaston fall from the rooftop not long after she went inside. Everyone knows how you betrayed Gaston!" he exclaimed, directing his attention to Belle who gasped and took a step backwards.

Adam growled, anger rising in his chest as this tiny man accused Belle of such horrible things. The growl was no where near as deep or menacing as it had been in the chest of the Beast, but Lefou still jumped and backed up a few paces. Before he could do anything else though, Belle placed a hand on his arm and caught his eye. He understood her warning glance and backed off, though he continued to glare at Lefou, silently daring him to insult Belle again.

"Why are you here, Lefou?" she asked gently. He did not deserve to be talked to so kindly, but Adam understood that this was Belle's undertaking and said nothing.

"I heard you were back in town and I wanted to see if it was true," he replied tightly.

"Yes, but not for long. You and the rest of the village will be rid of me after today," Belle replied, her voice still pleasant but Adam heard a note of impatience in it.

"What? Where are you going?" Lefou asked, clearly surprised by this information.

"To live with Adam," she said simply, motioning towards him. Lefou glanced between Belle and Adam in astonishment.

"You're marrying _him_?" Lefou pointed indignantly at Adam. "You chose _him_ over Gaston?"

"Yes," she said shortly and Adam was relieved she passed over the comment about marriage.

"But Gaston loved you since you first moved here, the moment he laid eyes on you! You've known this guy for what, five minutes?"

"Gaston never loved me," Belle raised her chin and declared sternly. "He didn't understand what love was. He wanted to _possess_ me; I was no more than a trophy for him to obtain and admire, a thing for him to give him seven sons and slave for him. You should forget all that he's taught you about women." Adam was disgusted by this information. Belle had told him how horrible Gaston had been, but these details were disturbing. Lefou's expression of shock at Belle's words only infuriated him further. Couldn't he see what a horrible person Gaston had been?

"Let's go, Adam," Belle said with a note of finality. "I'm done here. Perhaps you can find someone to use the cottage," she added to Lefou before turning and walking towards the wagon. Her father joined them and they helped him into the seat of the wagon. Lefou still had not moved, apparently set on watching them leave.

"Should we do something about him?" Adam asked, glancing towards Lefou who looked very lost and alone.

"I don't know what else I can do," Belle sighed. "He spent his whole life as Gaston's lackey; now that he's gone Lefou has to find his own way. I hope he takes my hint and keeps the house for himself. That would help him get on his feet, I think, being able to escape from the village. He was teased as much as I was, you know. He just chose to embrace it differently than I had. Where I chose to ignore it behind my books, he jumped into the middle of it with both feet."

"He was hungry for power," Maurice added as he helped Belle up onto the seat beside him. "He couldn't do anything about it himself, but being beside Gaston he could at least share in Gaston's glory. Cowardly creature."

"You don't mind that I offered him the house, do you Papa?" Belle asked as she settled beside her father.

"Of course not. Someone should get use out of it. And I think you're right he'll need somewhere to go now."

"Let's go home, then," Belle said happily and took up the reins. Adam grinned, quickly realizing that she meant the castle as her home, and jumped into the back of the wagon so they could be on their way. Before Adam lost sight of the cottage behind the trees, he noticed Lefou slowly climbing the stairs of the recently vacated cottage.

* * *

Many of the servants had gathered in front of the castle when they arrived. At the sight of so many smiling, human faces, Adam's joy at the broken curse was renewed. It was still so unusual for him to see the human faces he knew only from his childhood and odder still to feel the warmth in his chest at seeing their happiness. He had spent years in anger but they had stood by him; now he wanted to start again and do better by them.

As they pulled up to the castle's doors, Belle climbed down from the wagon before Adam could offer to help her and embraced Mrs. Potts, who stood closest to her.

"It's good to be back." Belle declared to the crowd when she broke away from Mrs. Potts. "I've missed you all so much!"

"Even me?" Chip asked, peaking out from behind his mother's skirts.

"Especially you," Belle responded and bent to embrace the child. Adam couldn't help but beam at Belle; the servants obviously loved her and she treated them so well, befriending and overseeing them equally. Belle was suited to the life of a royal; she was meant to be a princess. The land could only prosper with her caring heart helping to govern it. Perhaps he would write to his father after all.

"All your belongings are waiting for you inside, ma cherie et monsieur," Lumiere said with a bow to both Belle and Maurice. "We were not sure what you want to do with everything, so we set them aside until you returned."

"Thank you, Lumiere. That's very kind of you. Perhaps after lunch I'll start to sort it all out."

"Allow us to help you," Cogsworth offered, coming forward and bowing to Belle himself. Several more voices rang out to volunteer their time. Adam's smile grew and he stepped forward to wrap his arm around Belle's waist.

"Sounds like we'll get it all sorted out before dinner," Adam remarked. "Thank you all for your help," he nodded towards the servants who had helped them pack the wagons.

"Yes, thank you," Belle echoed. "It would've taken so much longer without your help!" Wordlessly, the men smiled and bowed to Belle and Adam.

"Come on," Adam said. "Food then sorting. I'm starved!" Belle laughed and took his hand to lead him inside. He hardly needed to be led about his own castle, but it was pleasant to have her hand in his own.

* * *

Belle's POV

It was odd to know that her cottage was no longer part of her life, but she was happy with the choice she made. Now all that had to be done was sort through the piles in the antechamber. Though she was surrounded by people to help her, among them Cogsworth, Lumiere, Adam, and her father, the vast pile before her seemed a daunting task.

"How did all of this fit inside that tiny cottage?" she wondered aloud, putting her hands on her hips and shaking her head in disbelief.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" her father chuckled. "We've accumulated so much in just a few years."

"Perhaps it would be easiest if you delegate where everything should go, mademoiselle," Cogsworth suggested. "That way, nothing would be misplaced and we wouldn't have to wonder where to go."

"Good idea, thank you," Belle said gratefully. It would be no small feat to organize the piles, but at least that way it would be more efficient. "Papa, perhaps you could go to your workroom and tell them where you want all the furniture and supplies to go." Belle was glad he agreed to this; the last thing she needed was to worry about her aging father climbing up and down dozens of stairs and trying to lift more than he could handle. She had seen to it that he didn't strain himself at the cottage, and didn't want him to get hurt in the last leg of the move. "Let's get started then." Everyone stepped forward to pick up an object and Belle instructed them where to go: her room, Maurice's room, the workroom, and occasionally to the library. While she waited for them to return, she sorted some of the smaller items into piles, though quickly there became very little time between people to allow to do that.

"Where does this go, ma cherie?" Lumiere asked, motioning to the portrait of Belle and her mother. She smiled at it tenderly, tracing her eyes over the image of her mother.

"I suppose just in my father's room," she replied. At that moment, Adam walked in.

"Is that the painting of you and your mother?" he asked excitedly, coming over to look at it properly. "Your father said he wanted it in the library."

"Did he?" Belle was surprised Adam knew that.

"Yes, he said your mother would want to be with the books she loved." Belle smiled and suspected Adam had quite an interesting conversation with her father back at the cottage, but did not press for details. "Very well then, to the library please, Lumiere. Carefully?"

"But of course! I shall protect it with my life. But, may I ask, where is it to be hung?"

"Oh, just place it somewhere out of harm's way for now. I'll see to that later today," she said and Lumiere nodded and left.

"Your mother was very beautiful," Adam said as Lumiere left. "I wish I could have met her."

"I think she would've liked you," Belle said wistfully. Adam bent to kiss the top of her head before turning back to the pile of belongings.

"Where would you like this to go, Mistress?" he asked jovially, bowing to her with such ridiculous flourish that she was provoked into a giggle.

"You're just teasing me now," she accused merrily.

"A bit," he replied, giving her a crooked sort of smile. She stuck her tongue out at him briefly and told him to put the trunk at his feet in her own room.

"You have to be careful with this one too," she said quickly. "My mother's wedding dress is in it."

"Really? Can I see it?" he asked, bending to stretch his hand towards the trunk's latch.

"Certainly not," she replied and grinned at his surprised expression. She refused to give a reason for denying his request, but judging by the way Adam did not press the issue he had guessed why he couldn't see that particular garment.

* * *

Only a few hours later, the antechamber that had contained all of the cottage's belongings had finally emptied and Belle was left thanking the ranks of exhausted men.

"I don't know how to repay you for all that work you've done," she declared. "But I'm so glad that Papa and I have made the move here permanent."

"We are only glad that you wanted to," Lumiere said grandly. "The castle would hardly be the same without you here." The other servants heartily agreed and Belle felt her face grow warm.

"How are the preparations for the celebration coming?" Adam asked Lumiere and Cogsworth once the other servants were dismissed.

"Splendidly, of course Master," Cogsworth replied. "I took the liberty of talking to the dozen or so who want to leave to discuss arrangements for their departure."

"Make sure to send them with plenty of supplies, and for their families as well," Adam requested and Belle smiled at his thoughtfulness. He wanted to make sure these people were well looked after, even after they left his service.

"I'd like to say goodbye to them before they leave," Belle added. "Everyone has been so kind to me since I arrived here, I would like to thank them and see them off."

"It shall be done, mademoiselle," Cogsworth replied readily. He out of everyone still did not call her 'Mistress' but Belle knew this was not meant as an insult, only respect for social traditions. She would not be mistress of the castle officially until she was wed to Adam.

"Let's go find a place to hang that painting," Adam suggested and took her hand. With each day Adam grew more confident in showing his affection for her; at first Belle could sense his uncertainty in his touch but day by day he became more sure of himself around her.

"You've been so wonderful these past few days," she remarked as they walked towards the library hand in hand. "I know things haven't been easy for you, but I'm glad you came with me to help me move out of the cottage. I don't think I could have endured the villagers' reaction if you weren't there." She had been wanting to thank him for what he had done that day, but there had been too much commotion to take a moment to do so.

"I'm glad I came, too. Those people were so awful to you; I had no idea that one man could make an entire village so resentful. But, honestly once I remembered how to wear shoes again and that I'm not as strong as I used to be, it wasn't all that difficult to figure out being human again," he replied with a carefree tone in his voice.

"Shoes?" she was surprised by this of all things. Adam nodded and grinned.

"I hadn't worn boots in ten years. It was hard to remember to put them on at first." Belle giggled, never imagining such a small thing would be so strange. "I think it was easy for me to become human again though," Adam continued more seriously, "because you hadn't treated me like a monster. You helped me to regain my humanity even when I was the Beast, so all that was left for me to do was figure out the physical part of it." Belle nodded, trying to imagine how it would feel to suddenly have to hold herself differently and remember how to move or even dress. It seemed a daunting task, but Adam seemed to have figured it out quickly.

"Well I'm just glad we can settle in now and perhaps go back to the way things were," she said, slightly embarrassed to have been the subject of such a compliment. "We've hardly had a moment to ourselves all week."

Adam stopped walking and looked at her as though he wanted to say something. For a moment Belle was afraid she had said something to offend him. "Belle, I. . ." he paused again and Belle waited for him to collect his thoughts. "I've been thinking about what you said earlier, about whether or not I wanted to be a prince again." Belle nodded, acknowledging the conversation and wondering if this meant that he had decided. "I think it's my place to—to pick up the responsibility I was born to bear. But if I do, that'll mean I'd have relearn everything I started being groomed for as a boy. We wouldn't have so much time for each other."

Belle took a moment to process this information, but only a moment. "Then we'll make time," she said simply and raised a hand to trace his jaw line. "I think it's wonderful you want to take up your place in the world. And it will be a terribly exciting adventure, don't you think?"

"Terrible, yes," he grinned. "You really think we'll be able to spend enough time together? I don't want to be unfair to you."

"As long as we both want to, we'll find a way," she reassured him. Though she had very little idea at what would be in store for them, she was certain that they could overcome anything together. They had beaten an entire enchantment, hadn't they? What were a few lessons and royal duties? Her thoughts were cut off as Adam bent to pull her into a kiss.

"You're so good to me," he remarked as they broke away. Belle blushed and could think of nothing to say. "Come, let's put up that painting. Then perhaps we can read for awhile."

"All right," she readily agreed and they continued on their way to the library.


	27. Chapter 27

Belle donned the golden dress for the second time, comforted this time by its familiar weight and the tender memories it held in its folds.

"You're beautiful, dearie," Madam Armoire exclaimed as she finished tying the laces of Belle's bodice. "It's wonderful to see you back in that dress; it suits you, you know."

"Thank you," Belle said, blushing at the compliment. "You look lovely, too," she added, turning and taking hold of Madam Armoire's hands, spreading both their arms wide so Belle could admire the woman's own beautiful, if a bit operatic, purple dress. "I hope everyone has fun tonight. You all deserve to enjoy yourselves after all this time."

"Oh, my dear, you talk like we were all completely miserable. And yes, I'll give you that before you got here it was frightfully dull but it really wasn't all that bad. You mustn't feel sorry for us."

"I don't!" Belle hastened to say, worried that she might have offended Madame Armoire. "I just mean that it had to be very trying for you all to have to endure the enchantment. I . . . oh dear." Belle faded into silence, twisting her fingers together in distress and certain Madame Armoire could only be insulted by what she had said. To her surprise, though, the woman only chuckled and took hold of Belle's hands, halting their anxious movements.

"Relax, dearie. I know you just want us all to be happy, and we all appreciate that. But we _are_ happy, you know." Belle nodded and tried to set aside the underlying concern she had harbored for the servants all this time. If they hadn't been happy, she told herself, then the castle could certainly not have been the lively place it was now.

"Shall we go down?" Belle asked with one last adjustment to her gloves.

"Yes indeed!" Madame Armoire agreed animatedly and opened the door to let Belle exit first.

"Madame?" Belle began slowly before she exited into the hall. "Would you mind very much if I called you by your first name? I think we've been through far too much together for me to keep addressing you so formally. If you don't mind," she added hurriedly, keen on not insulting the former wardrobe again.

"It's Estelle," she said with a wide smile. "Come, we'll be late!" Belle hurried through the door, glad that Madame Armoire—Estelle—had felt comfortable enough to answer Belle's request.

"I have to get Papa first," she said, turning in the direction of her father's room just down the hall. "He's still a bit turned around in this place and he's never been to the ballroom."

Moments later, Belle knocked on her father's door with a gloved hand. The door opened to reveal her father dressed in a handsome blue vest, white shirt, and brown pants, similar to what he always wore, but Belle hardly expected anything else.

"Belle!" he gasped, his eyes wide with shock when he saw her and Belle suppressed a giggle. "You look _beautiful_."

"Doesn't she though?" Estelle put in before Belle could say a word. "Properly floored the Master when he saw her wear that dress the first time!"

"The first time?" Maurice asked, one eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Come, I'll explain while we walk," Belle said and placed a hand on her father's shoulder to lead him towards the ballroom. On the way, she explained about her request to have a formal dinner with the Beast, wanting to wear the ball gown she had found during one of her explorations of the castle's many rooms. As she retold the story, Belle felt her heart flutter at the memory of dancing in the arms of her Beast. It was the most wonderful evening Belle had ever experienced; if only she had been brave enough to confess her true feelings before she returned home that same night. It shouldn't have taken the horrible events that followed for her to realize that she had fallen in love with the Beast, but everything had turned out as it should in the end.

"I see," her father said when she finished her story. "It seems like you were being treated like a proper princess here."

"I was treated like _myself_, Papa," she corrected, not missing the slightly bitter tone in her father's voice. "Yes, in a much larger scale than anything I have ever seen, but all of it was only done because Adam understands who I am."

"I'm just glad you're happy," her father said gently. "I'm not trying to pick a fight. It's a lot to take in." Belle nodded and said nothing further, realizing that her time spent with the Beast would forever be a mystery to her father.

"Here we are!" Estelle said in a singsong tone. "Oh, I'm so excited!" she pushed the door open and allowed Belle and Maurice to walk in first.

Belle gasped and grinned at the transformation of the ballroom. The massive beauty of the room itself was familiar, but now it was bustling with chattering people dressed in their very best. An orchestra was playing in the corner, tables laden with food and drink were spread around the edges, and garlands of flowers were wrapped around every column.

"There you are!" a voice exclaimed and Belle looked to her left to see Lumiere walking towards her. "The Master has been waiting for you, ma cherie. What do you think?" he asked, motioning an arm to the ballroom.

"It's beautiful, Lumiere. You have outdone yourselves!" Lumiere grinned and bowed.

"Merci, mademoiselle, but it could not have been done without your help."

Before Belle could respond, Adam came up behind Lumiere and clasped the gangly man on the shoulder. "Belle has certainly done much to set this castle to rights, hasn't she?" he said to Lumiere, but was looking at her. Belle smiled at the compliment and her smile grew wider when she noticed how handsome he looked. Adam was wearing the same suit he had worn the last time they were together in the ballroom, sending simultaneous reminders of the night they had shared and of the enchantment they had broken. Both sent her heart beating wildly and Adam's obvious adoration for her created an excited fluttering in her stomach as if she had just swallowed butterflies.

"I'm going to see what there is to eat," she heard her father say as he sauntered off in the direction of one of the tables of food. Lumiere excused himself as well, escorting Estelle away and leaving Belle and Adam alone.

"How's he adjusting?" Adam asked as he slipped an arm around Belle's waist and nodded in the direction her father had just gone.

"Better than I expected," she said, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach. "He still gets a bit turned around. And I don't think he'll ever understand what you and I had gone through during my stay here."

"In his defense, it _is_ a bit unusual," Adam remarked. "But he'll see that you and I are happy together, and soon the rest won't matter."

"I hope you're right. I just don't want him to feel as though I betrayed him."

"Belle," Adam started but paused to look around at the crowds and drew her a bit further away from the throng. "You did everything you could for your father. You took his place when I imprisoned him, you went to his side when he was lost and ill in the forest, and you invited him to stay with you here in the castle. From where I stand, you have _honored_ your father beyond what many would do." Belle let his words break up the somber mood she had put herself in. She would do anything for her father, and indeed had done much already. And her father didn't seem to be unhappy, so she tried to let her worries rest.

"Enjoy yourself today, Belle," Adam added when Belle smiled at him. "This is a celebration for you as much as anyone. You saved us all, remember?"

"You did your share too, if I remember correctly," she reminded him, unwilling to take so much credit. To her surprise, Adam sighed and rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

"Belle, I love you dearly, but you must learn to accept a compliment and cheer up!" As if to enforce his declaration, Adam gently seized her by the waist and twirled her in the air in a whirl of golden skirts. Belle couldn't help but laugh as Adam guided her through space and set her safely down again. Grinning foolishly, Belle looked up into Adam's deep, blue eyes briefly before Adam bent to kiss her, his hand on the back of her head to gently draw her closer.

"Come," he said when the broke apart. "I'll show you one of the many things you've taught me." Belle allowed herself to be led into the center of the empty floor where Adam immediately moved his arms into their proper positions for a dance. The observant orchestra began a new song and Belle recognized it to be the one she and Adam had danced to before.

As Adam once again sent them whirling around the ballroom, Belle was lost in the gentle pool of his warm gaze. She allowed him to lead her around the floor as she looked into the eyes of her beloved; vaguely she was aware that everyone had stopped to watch them, but she was lost in the magical hold Adam seemed to have her in and merely floated in his arms, ignoring the world around her.

After what seemed only mere moments but was equally timeless, the song ended and Adam ceased their twirling. As the people applauded them, Belle was brought back from her trance and glanced around her, feeling her face grow warm at having so many eyes upon her. Adam grinned at her and led her off the dance floor, motioning to the orchestra to play a more lively song. The servants took advantage of this new music and flooded the dance floor Belle and Adam had recently vacated. Belle was glad to have left the center of their attention and smiled at Adam appreciatively. Truly it was though he could read her mind sometimes.

Beast's POV

The celebration was a huge success, Adam was pleased to see. He watched joyfully as the servants danced energetically around the ballroom, ate, and chatted merrily. Never before, to his knowledge, had the ballroom been used for such an interesting event. There had always been boring state balls with stuffy nobles before and it was good to now have life and laughter echo off the walls.

He leaned against one of the columns and watched the scene before him. To his left, Lumiere and Cogsworth were quarrelling over something, shoving each other and drawing the attention of the people immediately around them. Adam chuckled, knowing that whatever the dispute was about, in a matter of minutes they would be great friends again. On the dance floor was his beloved Belle dancing with Chip. Her cheeks were flushed with the energetic dance and she was laughing. Adam couldn't help but smile at the sight. She was so beautiful, so gentle it was hard to believe this whole thing wasn't a dream.

When Chip twirled and laughed, Adam's attention was redirected to the boy. Though Adam had not paid much attention to the children of servants at the time, he distinctly remembered Mrs. Potts' son being around three or four years old before the enchantment was set upon them. It was as if the boy had not grown at all with the years as Adam himself had. Curious about this, he walked over to where Mrs. Potts stood with Maurice.

"Chip seems to be having a good time," he remarked, nodding over to where the boy was dancing with Belle.

"He adores her, Master," Mrs. Potts beamed. "She's very patient with him."

"She's always been good with children," Maurice added.

"How old is Chip now?" Adam asked, unsure how to gently approach the question he wished to ask. Mrs. Potts did not answer for a moment and Adam suspected that she had also wondered about the absence of her child's aging.

"He was four when the enchantment took hold," she began. "But though it's been so long, he doesn't seem to have changed at all, does he?"

"Is it because he simply hasn't?" Adam said thoughtfully.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I was wondering if the enchantment had not allowed him to grow for ten years, and when it was broken he just picked up where he left off as the four year old he was. But if that's true, then why did _I_ get older?"

"I think you've got the right idea. I've been wondering myself why I shouldn't feel older than I do."

"But your hair is more grey than I remember," Adam said without thinking and was instantly embarrassed as he notice Mrs. Potts blush. "I'm sorry," he said hurriedly. "I didn't mean that. I just. . ."

"It's all right," Mrs. Potts said with a wave of her hand. "I suspect it's a combination of you not noticing or at least not remembering ten years ago when we were last human, and making me worry about you all those years even as a teapot." Adam was relieved to hear a teasing note in her voice. "And as for why you aged and not the rest of us, I'm sure it's because you were the only one who remained at least in flesh and blood, not to mention you were the center of an enchantment that was timed by your age. I'm sure that had something to do with it." Adam nodded silently as he realized the Enchantress had been more compassionate than he had first believed. Though his servants had to endure ten years of life as objects, at least they had lost none of those precious years as their human selves.

"Mama!" Chip exclaimed and rushed over to Mrs. Potts and Belle trailing close behind. "Mama did you see me dance?"

"I did, son. You were wonderful!" Mrs. Potts embraced the boy.

"He's the best dance partner I've ever had," Belle said as she drew level with them and smiled at Adam who chuckled.

"I'm glad someone here knows how to dance well," Adam put in, playing along with Belle. "Belle needs a proper dance partner."

"You're not so bad, Master," Chip insisted, provoking Adam into another chuckle.

"Thank you," he said with a slight bow of his head to the boy. "Would it be all right with you if I practiced with Belle?" Chip nodded and Adam thanked him again before offering his arm to Belle.

"You must be exhausted," he whispered in Belle's ear as he led her away. "He was very energetic. I promise to go slow and let you catch your breath."

"It was fun," she insisted. "But it was easier to keep up with him when he was a teacup. Poor Mrs. Potts certainly has her hands full with him." Adam led Belle into a slow waltz, allowing them to continue speaking and for Belle to catch her breath.

"Mrs. Potts is grateful you're trying, though," he continued as they moved about the floor, this time joined by several other pairs including Lumiere and Babette. "We've found out something about the enchantment though, I'm sure you've been wondering. . ."

"That no one has aged?" Belle finished and Adam was surprised. "I've been thinking about that. Chip should have been much older now, shouldn't he? I think the enchantment stopped their aging, since if Chip hadn't aged, I doubt anyone else had either."

"What about me, then?" he reminded her, impressed that she had deduced all of this on her own.

"Well you were the subject of the enchantment, weren't you? The enchantment was supposed to become permanent on your twenty-first year and all that. You aged while everyone around you did not since it was only your growth that really mattered. And I'm very glad you did not remain eleven years old."

"That would have been a bit awkward, wouldn't it?" Adam laughed. "You never cease to amaze me, Belle. You're so clever."

"I read too many fairy tales with their own spells and curses," she reminded him. "I never thought I'd find myself in the middle of one, but when I had, I found my stories were actually of use."

"There are other stories like ours?" Adam asked, intrigued by this.

"Not exactly, but every curse was meant to teach the subject a lesson and almost always had some side effect."

Adam was about to reply, but something across the dance floor caught his eye. "Belle, look," he said quickly and motioned to the spectacle he was looking at.

"Well done, Papa," she said quietly as they both watched her father lead Mrs. Potts into the dance. Mrs. Potts was blushing, but seemed willing enough to let Maurice lead her around the floor with the other dancers.

"I didn't know your father could dance," Adam remarked.

"Who do you think taught me?"

"I always thought your mother had," he admitted.

"I'm sure she would have, but I was too young to learn much from her. I'm surprised Papa had the courage to ask Mrs. Potts to dance, though. From what I was told it took years for him to even start courting my mother."

"You don't mind, do you?" Adam asked hurriedly, wondering if perhaps Belle might be a bit jealous.

"Of course not. They both deserve someone to be with. I wonder how she'll react when he starts spending most of the day in his workroom, though."

"Well, you got me out of the West Wing many times, didn't you?" Adam reminded her. "Who knows?" Belle looked thoughtful for a moment, but her expression soon cleared and returned her attention to Adam.

"We'll have to just see what happens," she said happily. "In the meantime, are you going to let Chip show you up?" Adam grinned and whirled Belle around obligingly.

* * *

Belle's POV

"Well I think that was a great success," Belle said as she and Adam strolled out onto the balcony, lit only by the candlelight that glowed through the windows of the ballroom. It had grown late and many of the servants had wandered back to their rooms, but Belle wasn't quite ready for the night to be over. "I think we should help clean up tomorrow, though. It isn't right they should be left to clean up by themselves after a party that was in honor of them." She noticed Adam roll his eyes, but he agreed all the same.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself," he said.

"I did, though my feet are aching. I've never danced so much in my life!" She sat on the ledge of the balcony to rest her feet, wishing she could take her slippers off. "Between you and Chip I barely got any rest."

"Sorry," he grinned sheepishly as he sat on the ledge beside her. "I was having too much fun dancing with you." Belle was glad of the darkness so Adam wouldn't see her blush. Rather than verbally responding, she slid closer to him and rested her head on his shoulder. She enjoyed his tiny gasp of surprise at her movement, and thrilled when his arm wrapped comfortably around her shoulder and held her to him.

They sat there for quite some time, gazing at the night sky above them. They did not speak, but the silence was comfortable. A cool breeze played with Belle's hair and caused her to shiver. Though spring was getting stronger, the nights were still cold and Belle had little to speak of in the way of sleeves. Adam wrapped both his arm tighter around Belle.

"Time to go inside?" he asked. Belle was still unwilling to end the night, but another breeze provoked her into nodding and standing to go inside. But her aching feet immediately protested and she stumbled. Adam caught her elbow though she managed to balance herself. "Your feet hurt that badly?" he asked and Belle saw his eyebrows crease in concern.

"I just overbalanced," she insisted, slightly embarrassed. Instead of responding, Adam quickly bent and scooped her up before she realized what he was doing.

"May I escort you to your room?" he inquired merrily, his blue eyes dancing in the dim candlelight.

"Only if you promise not to drop me," she replied, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Never," he insisted and carried her through the ballroom and into the castle beyond.

"I must be too heavy for you to climb the stairs, though," she said worriedly. She didn't want Adam to overdo himself as he had when he helped move her things out of the cottage.

"Belle, I might not be a Beast anymore, but I can certainly manage to carry a little thing like you. Now if you can't accept that, I'll let you walk all the way back to your room by yourself on your aching feet." Belle was unused to being scolded by Adam, though she knew he wasn't serious, and tried to take a deep breath to calm herself. She had been so tense since the enchantment had broken, worrying far too much about the happiness and comfort of everyone else around her though it was clear that no one had any complaints.

"I'm sorry I'm so worried about everything lately," she said as Adam carried her through the castle.

"Why is that? You were so sure of yourself a few days ago. What's changed?"

"I suppose. . .I suppose it's partly because everything has changed so fast. I'm having trouble finding my feet again. So to speak," she added since her feet were currently suspended several feet above the ground.

"Is there anything I can do? I know it's been a lot to take in all at once."

"I don't think so. I know nothing's going to be quite the same again. I was a little off when Papa and I moved to the village from Paris, too. It will just take me some time for me adjust, that's all."

"Perhaps we can read in the library for awhile tomorrow," he suggested.

"I'd like that, thank you," she said gratefully, knowing that she could always count on her books to ease her mind. Perhaps she could read some of Aesop's fables; some of those would surely provoke Adam into laughter and she loved seeing his reactions to the stories she read to him.

"There," Adam said as he approached her bedroom door. He carefully guided her feet to the floor, holding her weight until she was perfectly upright. "Safe and sound." Belle nodded, but made no move to go inside, unwilling for the night to end. Adam seemed to be reluctant to leave as well, but neither of them made a move to speak for several moments.

"Thank you for all that you did for the celebration," Adam finally offered. "You looked beautiful tonight."

"Thank you," she said shyly, feeling her cheeks flush yet again. "You look handsome, too."

Adam chuckled and Belle looked at him in surprise. "I haven't heard anyone say that to me in quite a long time," he explained, amusement still playing in his eyes.

"Well, it's true," she said. "And you know, the Beast was handsome, too. Just in a different way."

"Oh really?" Adam said, looking as though he didn't believe her.

"Yes, really," she pressed. "You may not have been human, but once you let your goodness overcome your anger, more than once I was able to see how truly beautiful you were. Now it just shows in your exterior a bit more clearly now." The laughter in his eyes faded and was replaced with something Belle didn't understand. Was that adoration, perhaps, or confusion? She gave up trying to name it after a moment as Adam brought a hand up to gently tuck a strand of her hair back into place.

"Thank you, my love," he said softly and Belle closed her eyes as his hand moved to caress her cheek. "I'm so glad you were able to bring that part of me out. I thought it had been long lost, until I met you."

Belle could think of nothing to say to such a beautiful thing, so she merely raised her head and stood on her toes to pull Adam into a long kiss, gently twining her fingers in his soft hair as she did so.

"I'll see you tomorrow, my dear," she said when she broke away. Adam nodded, seemingly speechless and she softly closed her bedroom door between them, sighing happily and eager for the day to come.


	28. Chapter 28

Beast's POV

"You did WHAT?" Adam bellowed. It was a little over a week after the celebration for the end of the curse and he had finally screwed up his courage to write to his father, only to find that Cogsworth had already done so. "Without even ASKING me?" Adam picked up a nearby chair in rage, ready to hurl it across the room but took a breath, set it down, and sat in it instead. He put his head in his hands, his rage sliding backwards into fear and confusion.

"I-I'm sorry, Master," Cogsworth stammered. "I only t-thought to inform him of y-your well being."

"You should have told me," he muttered as he stared at the floor between his knees.

"I have a reply." At Cogsworth's words, Adam's head snapped up in surprise and saw the portly man holding up a letter. He took it, resisting the urge to snatch it from Cogsworth, and held it suspiciously in his hands. It was still sealed with wax indicating that it had not yet been read.

"Would you like me to read it?" Cogsworth suggested, obviously seeing Adam's hesitation.

"No." Adam took a breath and carefully unfolded the letter. As he skimmed over the words written on the page, his heart began to pound first with anticipation, then with anger, and finally with terror. He crumpled the letter in his hands, wishing he could forget the words he read only to smooth the page out and read it again.

"What does it say?" Cogsworth pressed.

"My father is dead," he said flatly. "My uncle has taken over since apparently my father had told everyone I had died as a child. No wonder I hadn't heard from anyone after he left." Adam thought he should be feeling something at this news, sorrow, rage . . . anything. But instead he only felt numb.

"I'm so sorry, Master," Cogsworth said and Adam could tell that he was sincere.

"It doesn't matter. My uncle is on his way to see if what you wrote to him is true and that I'm alive. I suppose we'll have to come up with some story to tell him." Adam crumpled the letter once again, balling it in his hands. "I wonder what he thought all the food and clothing was for, then," he said and laughed without cheer at the image of his uncle's face when he received requests for women's gowns.

"I'll see that a room is prepared for him," Cogsworth said with a bow and left, but Adam hardly noticed.

His father had told everyone he was dead? Had he really wanted to forget Adam so badly as to fake his own son's death? But now his father was dead, truly dead, and Adam felt no remorse at that news.

Deciding to think about that later, he focused his attention instead on the imminent arrival of his uncle. Adam had not seen Gustave since he was about Chip's age, but he could vaguely recall fond memories of the man. Would Gustave recognize Adam? And what if he did; would Gustave give Adam back his rightful inheritance, or simply shun his nephew? If he chose the latter, Adam would have nowhere to go; he would lose everything. But neither did he want his uncle to have to give up his station.

He shook his head in confusion and decided to go see Belle, the letter still crumpled in his fist. When no one answered when he knocked at Belle's bedroom door, he went immediately to the library hoping she was there as she so often was.

As he opened the doors to the library, he spotted Belle in the cushioned window seat surrounded by several children whom she was apparently reading to. Careful not to disturb her enraptured audience, Adam took a seat nearby and waited till she was finished. Belle smiled at him when she noticed him walk in but did not pause in her reading.

Adam sat back and listened to the story, something about a lad who climbed a giant beanstalk to get to an ogre's treasure in the sky. He was amused by the way Belle read the story to the children, changing her tone of voice to make the events of the story sound more dramatic. Some of the children even shrieked when the lad was hastily chopping down the beanstalk before the ogre could attack him.

"Another!" they cried when Belle closed the book of fairy tales she had been reading from.

"Maybe later," Belle said. "I think the Master has something to talk to me about. Why don't you go play and I'll read you another later on."

"I'm going to be Jack!" Chip declared, jumping up and miming swordplay. "I'm going to slay the ogre and take his magic flute."

"It was a _harp_," one of the girls corrected.

Chip merely shrugged and stated that he would take both, then he declared that the girl was the ogre and chased her out of the library, surrounded by the other laughing and shrieking children.

"Noisy little things, aren't they?" Adam said as their playful cries echoed down the hallway.

"They're just excited," Belle replied with a broad smile. "I just hope they don't get in anyone's way while they're playing."

"They'll be fine," he insisted, not particularly caring if they stirred up the place a bit.

"You look worried about something," she said, her expression dropping into one of concern for him. Recalling why he sought her out in the first place, he lifted his hand and revealed the crumpled letter he still held.

"What's this?" she asked and took the paper from him. He didn't answer, allowing her to read and find out for herself. As she smoothed out the letter, Adam returned to his seat in the armchair and watched Belle's face as she silently read. Almost immediately, her brow furrowed in confusion and her eyes flew across the page faster.

"I—" she started, but quickly glanced back at the page again. "I'm sorry about your father."

"I'm not," he responded without thinking. Adam paused in horror at what he had just said. "Belle, I'm not sorry. What's wrong with me? I should feel _something_, shouldn't I?" It frightened him to know that he felt no sorrow at the knowledge of his father's death. He had no ambition of returning to the horrible, hard-hearted person he once was, but did his lack of emotion at this major event mean there was no hope for him?

Belle knelt on the ground by his chair and placed a hand on his knee. She was looking at him with such sincere sympathy Adam was stunned for a moment. "What your father did to you was awful, Adam," she began. "He should not have left you like that. And to isolate you as he had by saying you were dead was horrible. From what you told me, you two never had a very good relationship with each other and you hadn't seen him in over ten years. He wasn't a large enough part of your life to justify a strong reaction to this, I don't think. Everyone reacts differently to this sort of news, anyway. Nothing is wrong with you, Adam."

"How can you be so sure?" Belle always knew just what to say to ease his mind, but was what she said true?

"You have a good heart, Adam. You have to trust that what you feel is right, even if it isn't what you think you're _supposed_ to be feeling." Adam placed his head in his hands for a moment, letting Belle's words sink in.

"What about the other part," he said after a moment, rubbing his face and returning his attention back to Belle. "About my uncle coming here."

"I'm not sure I understand that part," she confessed, glancing back at the letter in her hand. "To me it brings up more questions than it answers. He's coming here to see if you're still alive, but what does that mean for you? Aren't you supposed to inherit the land from your father? But then what would happen to your uncle? I wonder what he thought he was sending all that food and clothing for. And why hasn't he ever come to the castle?"

Adam felt his forehead wrinkle in confusion as Belle rattled off her questions. Belle had a point: _why_ hadn't anyone come to the castle before? Perhaps his father had said something about it before he died, but what?

"I don't know," he said, still deep in thought. "I'm confused about that myself, but I'm more worried about what I'm going to tell him about where I was for the past ten years."

"I wonder. . .I wonder if you shouldn't just tell him the truth," Belle said hesitantly.

"What?" How could she suggest such a thing? If anything would guarantee the loss of his position and his home, it would be the telling of such an unbelievable story. His uncle would think Adam had gone mad, which would be a brilliant excuse for why his father said Adam was dead: to hide his insane son from the world. "No one would believe such a ridiculous story," was all he said but his voice was harsh to his own ears.

"I did. I knew this castle was enchanted from my first night here," she retaliated.

"Because you _saw_ it. Talking clocks and candlesticks are easier to believe when you're the one having the conversation with them!"

"So show him proof. Surely you still have the mirror and the wilted rose." That gave Adam pause. The rose still stood under the bell jar, floating as it had for ten years only now it had grown whole again and showed no further sign of magic. It was now only a reminder of what had been. He still had the mirror too, of course, but he had not tried to see if it still held its enchantment.

It didn't matter either way; he couldn't tell his uncle what really happened to him. "No," he grunted. "I still have them, but I will not tell my uncle the truth." Belle looked shocked at his words which only deepened Adam's anger. Why didn't she understand?

"Fine," she said and Adam watched her face set into the same intimidating expression she wore whenever they disagreed: stubbornness. "I think it's a mistake, but you have to choose." Belle stood and, to Adam's surprise, began to make her way out of the library. "You may have broken the spell," she said just before she left. "But you're still letting it control your life."

Belle left without another word, leaving Adam sitting stunned in his chair.

Belle's POV

She strode quickly through the castle, hardly aware of where she was going, her mind still on the argument she and Adam just had. Why wouldn't he tell his uncle about the enchantment? A lie would only get found out and perhaps make things between Adam and his remaining family worse. Besides, why shouldn't Adam's uncle believe the truth, especially once he saw the rose and heard the servants' confirm the story?

To deny that it happened required a very large lie, more complex than the simple traveling story they sent with the servants who left the castle. Adam's uncle would doubtless ask many questions, making the lie harder and harder to stick to until it would finally unravel, leaving Adam worse off than he was before. And to deny such an enchantment would be to deny all that Adam had accomplished during that time, at least from Belle's point of view.

Besides, how would Adam explain Belle's presence without the enchantment? A simple peasant girl had no right to live in a castle, let alone fall in love with the Prince. Though she knew it wasn't his intention, but by denying the enchantment it felt a bit like Adam was denying her. The very thought made her queasy and she decided what she needed was fresh air.

She felt herself relax the moment she stepped outside, breathing in the soft spring air that seemed almost to embrace her. As she began walking down the cobbled path the spring air became heavy with the scent of freshly turned earth. It was a comforting smell that reminded her of life and growing things, so she followed it hoping to find its source. She turned the corner of the castle and found a man in a straw hat working at turning the dirt of a large garden bed several yards wide.

"Hello," she greeted him as she drew closer. The man looked up at the sound of her voice and Belle saw the hardened features of a man who had spent a long life outdoors.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," he replied, not quite smiling but neither did he seem displeased that she had interrupted his work. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Oh, no thank you. I was just wondering what you were working on."

"Just a flower bed, perhaps for some irises. Just something to fill this corner. The real garden is in the back, you know," he added, jabbing a thumb in the direction of the expansive garden Belle had seen only covered in snow.

"Oh, yes I know. I think this corner deserves some attention too, though." The man nodded: apparently Belle had pleased him by saying that. "Would you like some help?"

The man eyed her curiously. "Aren't you the Master's lady?" he asked.

"Oh sorry, yes. I'm Belle," she introduced herself quickly, remembering her manners.

"Louis," he said with another nod. "But I meant why is the Master's lady wanting to dig about in the dirt with an old man like me?"

"I'm quite a bit more than the Master's lady," she retaliated gently. Louis looked at her skeptically for a moment before motioning to the wheelbarrow in which his tools lay. Belle picked up a second hoe and took a place beside Louis, digging and turning the dirt as she had so many times in her own gardens at the cottage. As she worked, she felt her frustrations at Adam's refusal to admit the truth ebb away. Her focus instead turned on the gentle warmth of the spring sun and the rich smell of the earth, finding peace in the silent company of Louis.

"That was well done," Louis praised a little while later when the ground had been turned to prepare it for planting.

"It feels good to be working in the garden again," she admitted, admiring their simple accomplishment.

"We'll let the dirt sort itself out for a few days then start planting," Louis said, taking the tool from Belle and placing both their tools back in the wheelbarrow.

"We?" Belle was surprised; from the man's silence Belle was afraid he wasn't entirely please with her presence.

"If you like." Louis was a mystery to Belle; he didn't seem very disagreeable, but he never seemed to say much. Determined to figure him out, Belle declared her intentions of coming back to help him plant the flowers. She couldn't be sure, but Belle thought she saw the hint of a smile on Louis' wrinkled face.

Belle went inside as Louis walked the opposite way down the path, intending to go directly to her room to wash the dirt from her hands. She never got that far, though. As she climbed the stairs in the entrance hall, Cogsworth came barreling down to meet her. The poor man always looked as though he were moments away from panic, but as he approached her Belle saw that he was truly distressed.

"Belle, thank goodness!" he puffed breathlessly as he approached her.

"What's wrong?" Belle asked quickly.

"I've done something very wrong," he confessed, dabbing at his sweating forehead with a handkerchief. "I wrote to the Master's father without his permission and received some very disturbing news in reply."

"I know," Belle confessed. "Adam came to talk to me about it, but I'm afraid I didn't do much to help."

"Well either way he's locked himself in the West Wing again. I thought we had gotten passed all that nonsense," he added as if to himself. "Could you help him?"

"Last time I only made it worse," she said, shaking her head at the memory of the argument just a few hours ago. "I don't think I'll be able to help him now. I don't agree with him on this, you see."

"I-I don't understand," Cogsworth said after a long pause. He looked on the verge of a breakdown, so Belle calmly explained all that had happened between herself and Adam after he had presented her with the letter.

"So you see, I'm partly the problem now. I still think it's wrong of him to lie to his uncle as he intends," Belle finished. "I can't console him when I think he's in the wrong."

"I see," Cogsworth said slowly. "There's no chance of you changing your mind?" Belle merely raised her eyebrow at Cogsworth. "No, of course you can't. And between you and I, I quite agree with you. But there is so much to be done before his uncle arrives in just a fortnight. If he insists on hiding away, it won't matter what the story is; his uncle won't be able to confirm that the Master is alive and he'll be denied his rightful inheritance!"

Belle sighed, supposing that Cogsworth was right: this was too important an event for Adam to hide away and refuse to prepare for. "I'll see what I can do," she finally consented. It seemed a bit hopeless, but she had been up against worse when it came to Adam.

Though she promised Cogsworth she would go immediately to the West Wing, she detoured to her room and took the time to wash the dirt from her hands. This act was not so much for the sake of cleanliness, but rather to give her time to think of what on earth she could say to Adam. When had thoroughly scrubbed her fingers twice, she decided she couldn't stall any longer and made her way up to Adam.

She knocked on the massive door to the West Wing, ignored the growling reply of 'Leave me' that came from inside, and pulled the door open.

"I said leave—" Adam started and turned as he was speaking but stopped abruptly. Clearly he had not expected Belle to be there.

Belle took a moment before she spoke, noticing how Adam stood by the small table that still held the bell jar and the mirror. It was clear he had been brooding over the rose and Belle realized how agonizing those ten years of enchantment must have been for him. Who was she to insist he retell such a painful story? But Belle wasn't ready to surrender just yet, so she merely crossed her arms and waited for Adam to say something. Adam said nothing however, only looked at her miserably once then turned back to the rose. This simple, sorrowful action reminded her strongly of her tortured Beast and Belle's stubborn anger waned quickly.

She moved towards Adam's side cautiously, concerned that Adam might revert back to his Beastly temper as well as his sorrow, but she need not have feared. Adam merely stood stooped over the small table, his only acknowledgement of her approach was to turn his head slightly in her direction.

Belle placed a hand on his back and leaned her head on his shoulder, silently joining Adam in gazing at the rose. It was a whole, full blossom again, floating a few inches above the table but no longer glowed as it once had. The enchantment over it was gone, serving only now as a reminder of what had been. Beside her, Adam still had not moved but Belle could feel his pain radiating from him. Belle closed her eyes and tried to imagine all the lonely, angry suffering Adam must have endured for those ten years. Her heart broke at the thought and yet she felt that her imagination had not even come close to the full scale of it.

"I still think you should tell your uncle the truth," Belle began gently. "But perhaps we can come up with a different story." Adam said nothing, so Belle moved to peer at his face directed down at the edge of the table and his eyes closed. "Adam?" She placed a hand delicately on his cheek to gently suggest that he draw his head up. He responded to her touch and Belle's heart ached at the grief she saw in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said such things to you."

Adam still did not speak, but moved to wrap his arm around Belle's shoulders and drew her close to him. She responded to the embrace willingly, wrapping her arms around him firmly as if by doing so she could keep his wounded heart from shattering.


	29. Chapter 29

Belle's POV

Belle was glad of her promise to help Louis in the small garden, since over the next two weeks she needed an escape from the chaos that had taken place inside the castle. Having a reason to spend time in Louis' calming presence allowed Belle to relax and keep her patience during more trying times of the day.

What came as a surprise was that Adam was nowhere near the center of the chaos. When Cogsworth had insisted Adam begin relearning all the duties of his station for the benefit of his uncle, Belle had anticipated that Adam would fight tooth and nail against it all. True, Adam was not the most patient of students, but Belle found that Cogsworth and Lumiere were more to blame for the uproar the castle was in.

Cogsworth had taken it upon himself to see that Adam was adequately prepared for his uncle's visit, reviewing endless laws and protocols while Lumiere set the servants on countless and seemingly (Belle decided) pointless tasks. Except that Cogsworth and Lumiere, as they so often did, decided that the other was not doing their task correctly and shouldered their way in.

This accomplished nothing except confuse the servants who were receiving several different countermanded orders and sent Adam several times into hiding. Though Adam had sought refuge in the West Wing countless times before, Belle thought that these recent instances were more than justified. She had sat in on one of the lessons Lumiere had infiltrated and within moments felt her own brain buzzing with confusion and frustration as Cogsworth and Lumiere quarreled. When it became clear that their attention had been drawn to the argument and not to the material Adam was trying to learn, Adam made his escape and Belle followed.

"It seems a bit difficult to learn anything from those two, doesn't it?" she commented as they walked down the hall towards the West Wing. Adam grunted in agreement.

"I don't see why I need to try to learn all this before Uncle Gustave gets here, though," he replied, his voice lowered into a grumble Belle recognized as a tone of frustration.

"It does seem a bit excessive," she agreed. "I suppose Cogsworth just wants to be well prepared just in case."

"Well it's no use. I can't learn anything like this. I never liked my lessons even with a real tutor, but this is ridiculous."

"What happened to your real tutor?"

"I—uh, drove him off about a year before the enchantment," he said and Belle noted his sheepish, guilty smile as he held the door of the West Wing open for her. Belle entered and sat in one of the new chairs by the small fireplace. It was odd to see the West Wing in such immaculate condition and even have a chair to sit in and she was surprised at what a warm, inviting place it had become.

"Perhaps I could help. It would be just like when I read to you. I might not be the best tutor, but couldn't possibly be any worse than what you're going through now."

Adam chuckled. "That's true. I think I'd like that. You wouldn't lecture me like Cogsworth does, at least."

"I'd try not to, anyway. We'll have to see what kind of student you are," she teased. "I'll go get the books we need if you get us something to eat."

"This is already much better than Cogsworth's lessons; he would always forget to break for meals. I'm _starving_."

"We'll meet back here in a few minutes. And don't forget to bring _me_ something to eat, too."

* * *

Beast's POV

Belle was a much more patient and understandable teacher than Cogsworth, though she herself confessed she didn't know much about the material. That almost made it better though: they learned together. Such things as the succession of property were more complicated than Adam had imagined, but Belle was both patient and intelligent and Adam began to understand both the laws of it and the importance of learning it. This law in particular was, after all, a major issue between Adam and his uncle.

Despite Belle's helpful efforts in helping him prepare, when Adam stood before the closed doors several days later to await his uncle's arrival, his hands were shaking uncontrollably. Cogsworth had wanted Adam to receive his uncle in one of the sitting rooms, but Adam couldn't stand the idea of waiting longer than necessary and so waited instead in the entrance hall. If it wasn't for Belle standing by his side, Adam would probably have tried to run. What would his uncle say when he saw Adam? Would he accept Adam as his true nephew? And if he did, what then?

The main door began to open and Adam took hold of Belle's hand to give him strength. It was odd to find strength in such a slight figure as Belle, but find it there he did.

A tall man walked in, clean and regal looking. He glanced around the entrance hall for a moment at the servants who lined the walls before his eyes finally rested on Adam. Adam was surprised to see how similar he was to this man before him; though this man's hair was black as pitch, he and Adam shared the same blue eyes and Adam could even see similarities in their noses. Adam took a step towards his uncle and bowed slightly as Cogsworth had instructed him to do. He straightened up, expecting to see his uncle return the bow, but instead the man grinned and threw his arms around Adam in a tight embrace.

"Adam!" his uncle exclaimed, pushing him at arm's length and looking him up and down. "My boy, you're alive!"

"Hello, uncle," he replied, feeling a smile grow on his face. From what Cogsworth had described, Adam expected to meet an aloof sort of man with stiff manners. But it was clear this was no such man.

"What have you been doing with yourself, boy? My God, you've grown well. You look so much like your father." The comment had been to please, Adam knew, but there was nothing Adam wanted to hear less. Apparently his distain showed on his face, for his uncle clasped him on the shoulder and looked at him sympathetically. "My brother never should have done that to you, my boy. But it's in the past now. Shall we go somewhere to talk? I have a feeling there's a lot to catch up on." Adam nodded and watched as his uncle waved away Cogsworth who was muttering something about refreshments.

"But first there's someone I want you to meet, uncle," Adam said, not forgetting Belle who waited quietly behind him. He held out a hand to her to draw her towards them. "This is Belle," he said simply, smiling at her.

"Mademoiselle, it is an honor," Uncle Gustave said, taking her hand and kissing it gently. Belle blushed prettily and began to curtsy, but Adam's uncle drew her up again. "One such as you should not bow to an old man like me, my lady," he said.

"What do you mean, monsieur?" Belle asked and Adam noted a hint of confusion in her voice. Adam was a bit confused himself; though it was certainly true Belle presented herself better than any royal, his uncle did seem to be acting a bit peculiar.

"Is there somewhere we can go and talk?" Adam's uncle suggested again. Suspecting there was more at hand than Gustave was saying, Adam wordlessly led him to the sitting room nearest the entrance hall, the same one where Adam had first encountered Maurice while he was still the Beast.

As soon as the door was closed, shutting out the curious faces of the servants, Gustave turned and embraced Adam a second time.

"Uncle?" Adam asked, feeling a real sorrow from the man's embrace this time.

"I'm so, so sorry, Adam. This should never have happened to you."

"What are you talking about?" Adam was growing more confused by the moment, indeed even a little apprehensive at his uncle's sudden change in attitude.

"Ten years ago, I had a vision of a beautiful woman in a green gown. She told me of an enchantment she had placed on my brother's son because of how he had become a boy with no love in his heart." Adam stared in disbelief at his uncle and Belle gasped, but neither interrupted him. "I didn't believe it at first, but this woman—this _Enchantress_—showed me images of what she had done to you. I saw your pain, my boy, and knew it was because of my fool brother. I knew I couldn't leave you as the Enchantress had made you, but neither could I help. All I could do was see that you were properly supplied. I handled the letters that came from this castle myself, seeing to it that you had plenty of food and other provisions."

"You _knew_?" Adam questioned in disbelief. "All that time, you knew what had happened?"

"I did," he confirmed and Adam sat heavily down into the nearest chair. His uncle knew all that time and said nothing? "I can't tell you how hard it was to stay away, my boy, or to stay so objective in the letters I sent anonymously with the supplies. I wanted to tell you everything would be all right, comfort you in some way, but to do so would torture you when I had no real hope to give you.

"When Cogsworth had sent the letter saying you were well, I knew the curse had finally been broken. I had been hoping for many weeks that would be the case after I saw in the letters hints of a woman's presence."

Adam watched as his uncle turned his attention to Belle. "You, my dear, must love this man very much to have performed such a great act."

"I do, monsieur," Belle said and Adam smiled at her, reaching out a hand to take Belle's as she stood beside him. She smiled in return and Adam's heart soared, but there was still something nagging at him.

"If you knew, uncle, then what does that mean for the land? The letter said you had taken over for my father after he died."

Gustave sighed heavily and shook his head. "I could tell no one what I knew, of course. I had to take my brother's place, but I knew. . .at least I hoped you would return to the world. I've come here to offer the role of Prince back to you, my boy, though it might be difficult to convince the others who you truly are. But we will, my boy. If you want it, we will find a way."

Adam didn't quite know how to respond; if the world thought him dead, perhaps this was his chance to remain hidden. At the same time, Adam knew he couldn't shirk his responsibilities. He had done that all his life, but now it was time to change.

"What does that mean for you, monsieur?" Belle asked. "What will you do if Adam takes over? I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't know much about this sort of thing."

"Nothing to be sorry about. Frightfully complicated stuff, this is. Even I don't understand it half the time." Adam suppressed a groan at the idea of trying to cram even more complicated rules and laws into his already swimming head.

"Our laws, as you might know, are very different from those of England's where only the king's sons and grandsons can be called Prince," Gustave began. "Your great-grandfather's father was awarded what is called a principality from the king, thus awarding him the title of Prince and some lesser nobles who would manage areas of his new lands. He would never be king, as he was not a blood relation to his Royal Highness, but he became a high standing and respected noble. The title passed through the generations to each son until your father as it should since he was the oldest son.

"Under normal circumstances, you would have inherited the title after your father's death, but as everyone thought you dead also, the title passed instead to me as the next living blood relative. Now we must find a way to restore your title to you."

"But, what will happen to you?" Adam repeated Belle's earlier question, his head starting to spin from the confusing maze of inheritance. "If I gain back the title, what will you do?"

"I shall be more than happy to remain with you as your legal advisor, my boy," Gustave announced with a bow. "I am sure you would need such assistance after your long seclusion." Adam sighed with relief, the weight of learning and understanding the laws of the land would not be entirely lifted, but at least Adam would have someone to help him sort them out. Cogsworth had tried his best, but it was clear he was not as well versed on them as he thought he was. Beside, the poor man was under too much stress already trying to run the household, let alone an entire principality.

"I'd be glad of the help, uncle. Thank you," he said as graciously as he could. He was amazed at his luck that his uncle should be so different from his greedy, selfish father; this man truly seemed to want to help Adam.

"It's the least I can do after being so helpless for ten years. I shall return to the castle and sort it out, but first I'd like to spend some time hearing your story and getting to know this charming lady of yours. Has he had the good sense to marry you yet, my dear?" Gustave addressed his question to Belle and Adam's heart leapt into his throat. No, he _hadn't _had the good sense, nor the courage, to ask such an important question. Belle blushed scarlet and began to stammer a response, but Adam managed to think of something to say to come to Belle's aid.

"I haven't yet, uncle," he began, feeling his own face grow hot. "I've been—been planning something," he said evasively, trying for all his worth to avoid Belle's eyes.

"Ah, I see. Well I won't ruin the surprise, of course, but you shouldn't take too long, you know. There are plenty of young men at court who would love to have a brave girl such as Belle on their arm. Now, might I be so bold as to ask when the next meal might be? Traveling works up such a terrible hunger, you know."

"Of course, uncle. Um, this way." He stood and motioned his uncle out of the door. Before he could follow, though, Belle caught hold of his arm and stood on her toes to whisper into his ear.

"Don't think about it, Adam. I love you. I am yours and you are mine; I will wait as long as you need." Adam wanted to say something in reply, but his uncle was waiting for them at the door, looking at them expectantly. So Adam only offered Belle his arm and led both her and his uncle to the dining room to eat.

* * *

_Just a smaller bridge chapter with a teeny tiny history lesson wrapped in it!  
_


	30. Chapter 30

Belle's POV

Belle knew that once Adam agreed to take his place as Prince they weren't going be able to spend as much time together. She told him that she understood, that it was important for him to learn what needed to be done in order to rule wisely over his land, but after a few days of barely seeing him she found herself regretting what she said. She visited her father often of course, but many times he was either involved in his most recent invention or keeping Mrs. Potts company. Neither of which Belle minded, but it made for awkward conversation. Even her library couldn't hold her attention for long; it wasn't the same without having Adam to read to.

Louis became her closest companion during these lonely days. Every day Belle could always find him digging and weeding in the garden at the corner of the castle, always with a second tool that was meant for her to use. Together they created a place of beauty, blooming with new life and color. Louis still did not speak much, but his company was pleasant.

One morning, several days after Adam's uncle arrived, Belle went outside to meet Louis only to find that the skies were gray and the clouds heavy with rain.

"Not going to be able to work long today," Louis said as Belle approached him. "You best go back inside. We'll work again tomorrow."

"I don't mind the rain if you don't," Belle responded, looking up at the skies without concern.

"That's not going to be any light spring shower, you know," Louis warned. "Why are you so determined to work in the cold rain, hmm?" Belle paused before she responded. She truly did not wish to return inside the castle where the servants were busy and Adam was hidden away in the study with his uncle. Belle and Adam had missed dinner together for the first time the previous night as well as breakfast that morning and, if she was honest with herself, Belle was still bitter about it. Neither Adam nor the servants seemed to need her anymore; even her father didn't need her since Mrs. Potts had been showing him more attention, but it was different for Belle out in the garden.

Her reasoning sounded flat and selfish in her own mind and she found herself unwilling to repeat it out loud. "I'm needed more out here than inside," was what she finally said.

"Ah, I see. Well, I wouldn't count out the Master just yet. I hear his uncle will be leaving soon; if I were a betting man, I'd say he's going to need you more than ever. Don't fret, my lady."

Belle knew that Gustave intended to go back to the other castle soon to alert the court to Adam's return, but she also knew that Adam had a long, complicated road ahead during which Belle would be little help to him. But she only nodded and smiled at Louis, knowing he intended to make her feel better and she was grateful for that.

"Even so, I think I'm going to stay out here a little longer. I promise to go in before it rains too hard," she added quickly when Louis opened his mouth to protest.

"All right, all right, suit yourself. Don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he loaded his small wooden wheelbarrow and made his way down the path.

Belle knelt and began to pick the tiny green weeds from the garden as the clouds grew darker above her head. She ignored the drops that soon began to sprinkle the earth, focusing on her task that successfully distracted her from her recent loneliness. As her pile of weeds grew, the rain began to fall harder until her wet hair began to stick her face. She looked up from the garden bed, blinking against the raindrops, and decided she really ought to go inside.

She stood to dust the dirt from her knees only to find that it had become mud. Estelle would not be happy about that. The rain came down harder and Belle shivered, hugging her arms and feeling the damp fabric stick to her skin. She hurried inside, trying to dodge the puddles as she went but that soon proved to be impossible as the path flooded in the downpour. When she finally made it inside the castle, she was thoroughly soaked.

"Belle?" She jumped in surprise at Adam's unexpected voice and watched him approach looking concerned. "What happened?"

"I got caught outside," she explained briefly and unsuccessfully suppressed a shiver. Adam immediately took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. The large jacket nearly swallowed her, but it was warm. "Thank you. What are you doing down here?"

"I was told you might be on the grounds in the rain. Why were you?" he asked as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders and led her further inside the castle towards her room.

"I was working in the garden."

"In the garden?" Adam repeated.

"Yes, the small one on the south corner of the castle. I've been helping Louis tend to it."

"Oh. You've been doing this for awhile?"

"Since we found out your uncle was coming to see you," she admitted. She had forgotten she never told Adam about her work in the garden, but it surprised and hurt her slightly that he had not noticed her absences. Judging by Adam's sudden halt in his step, he had just realized the same thing.

"Belle. . .have I been ignoring you?"

"You've been busy," she dismissed hastily. "I know you never meant to. We knew this would happen." Belle never intended to make Adam feel guilty, but she couldn't help but feel a bit appreciative to whoever told Adam that she was outside in the rain, thereby drawing Adam's attention. Adam brushed aside a lock of wet hair that clung to her forehead in a familiar, comforting gesture that made her close her eyes and smile.

"I don't want to do that to you," he said and moved his hand to cup her cheek. "I'm sorry that I have been and I promise I'll try to do better."

"All right," she replied, unsure if it would happen but allowing herself to find comfort in his words.

"I mean it, Belle. You've never been shy about making your opinions known before; there's no way I ever want that to change about you, especially now. I promise I'll try to be aware of what's going on, but I'll still need you to tell me I'm being foolish. I need you to be entirely yourself now that everything else around me is changing. Can you do that?"

"Well, I don't think you're being _foolish_," she replied. "But I'll try keep you in line," she continued, her tone a bit teasing but taking Adam's request seriously. He was right; she had become a bit more timid about making her voice heard since Adam's uncle had come into their story. There was no reason for it; surely Gustave would realize she and Adam needed time together, too.

"I'm counting on it," Adam said with a nod of approval. "Except. . .well I think you should know that not all that time was spent with my uncle drilling laws and traditions into my head."

"What do you mean? What were you doing instead?"

"You'll find out," he said, his lips creeping up into a crooked smile before leaning down to kiss her. Belle broke away quickly, just in time to stifle a sneeze into her hastily drawn handkerchief.

"You should change out of those wet things and get warm," Adam suggested and continued to lead her towards her room. Belle nodded and cursed her stubborn insistence at staying outside in the chilly spring rain. "I'll come check on you in a while, if you want," Adam said as the approached the doors to her room.

"Oh, I'm fine. Once I get warm I'll be good as new," she insisted. "But I would like to see you later if you can get away."

"Of course." Adam leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Now go get warm. I'll send Mrs. Potts with some tea for you, too."

"Thank you," she replied affectionately and retreated into her room to endure Estelle's disapproving but good-natured scolding at Belle's state. Belle was treated to a hot bath and then bundled into a thick dressing gown. Estelle left to get the stains out of Belle's gown, leaving Belle to curl up by the fire. Belle surrounded herself in a soft blanket and dove into her latest book, comfortable in her pocket of warmth as she listened to the rain outside pound at the windows.

"Here we are, dearie," Mrs. Potts said as she entered the room just as Belle reached the end of a chapter. "The Master said you were in the need of something hot to drink and I came straight away. What on earth possessed you to be outside on a day like this, I'd like to know?"

"I was just tending to the garden and didn't notice it was raining until it too late," she explained as she accepted a cup of tea from the kindly woman.

"Hmm, well you should be more careful, dearie. You could've caught a nasty cold," she scolded cheerfully.

"Perhaps you could stay for a few minutes and tell me what's going on lately. Everyone seems to have been busy I've hardly spoken to anyone the past few days," Belle asked as she noticed Mrs. Potts go to leave.

"Oh my dear I'm sorry. It's been such an uproar since the Master decided to take his rightful place in the world. After ten years, both the castle and the staff are a bit unprepared." With a sigh that seemed to hold the frustrations of a very patient woman, Mrs. Potts sat in the second chair across from Belle and poured herself a cup of tea.

"You would let me know if there's anything I can do to help, won't you?" Belle begged, unwilling to go back to the solitude she had felt the past few days.

"Of course, my dear, but there's not much you could do. If we need you, you can be sure we'll ask."

"And how's Papa?" she said and took another sip of her tea, watching over the rim of her cup as Mrs. Potts blushed slightly at Belle's words.

"Haven't you been to see him?"

"Several times, but I think you're in a better position to tell me," Belle replied with a smile. "You two seem to be enjoying each other's company."

"Oh my dear, don't you think we're both a bit old to be going through such silliness?" Mrs. Potts said, clearly trying to dismiss Belle's comment.

"No," Belle said simply. "I think it's wonderful." Another sneeze kept Belle from continuing.

"Oh, I hope you haven't caught a cold after all," Mrs. Potts cooed, taking the opportunity to change the subject.

"I'll be fine," she insisted, a bit disappointed that Mrs. Potts eluded the topic but still intrigued on what might arise from their relationship. A knock came from the door and Mrs. Potts went to open it, insisting that Belle stay put in her warm blanket. Cogsworth entered, looking tense and preoccupied as usual.

"Oh, Mrs. Potts! Good, the Master said I could find you here. We need you. . ." Cogsworth glanced in Belle's direction and immediately stopped talking.

"Bonjour, Cogsworth," Belle greeted pleasantly, eying him suspiciously. What could Cogsworth want Mrs. Potts for that he couldn't say in front of Belle?

"Bonjour, mademoiselle. I'm terribly sorry to hear you're not feeling well."

"Just a chill," she insisted, already weary of everyone worrying over her.

"Well, Mrs. Potts the other's need you for. . .well, you know." Cogsworth glanced in Belle's direction again and Belle's suspicion grew. What was going on?

"Very well," Mrs. Potts said and collected her tea cart. "I'm sorry, Belle. I'll see you soon. Stay under that blanket, now." Belle nodded and watched them leave, alone yet again but with much more to think about.

* * *

The rain continued for three straight days, flooding the grounds and provoking everyone into staying indoors. It did nothing to dampen Belle's spirits, however. On the contrary, she found a new energy she hadn't realized had been missing. After spending the night bundled in blankets at Estelle's insistence, Belle woke feeling better than ever. She joined her father for breakfast and merrily discussed his new invention. He seemed pleased with the progress he was making on his plowing machine and Belle suggested that he ask Adam to test it on his fields when it was done.

"Where is the boy, anyway?" Maurice asked at the mention of Adam. "Haven't seen him since that uncle of his arrived. You don't think he's trying to take Adam away from you, do you?"

"Nonsense. I talked to Adam yesterday as a matter of fact and he realizes he's been hiding away too much," Belle informed him. "He's probably just. . .Oh, Adam!" she exclaimed as Adam walked through the doorway. "We were just talking about you." Adam paused and looked alarmed.

"I was just wondering where you've been," Belle's father explained and Adam relaxed and took his seat.

"Did Belle explain it to you?"

"Enough, anyway. Pass the toast?"

* * *

Adam ate quickly, saying that he had to meet Gustave for yet another lesson.

"Why doesn't he join us for breakfast?" Belle wondered aloud. "He must know he's more than welcome."

"He's been writing a lot of letters to the court at the main castle. I told him I didn't want to leave this place, so I think he's trying to get the court to come here. Though I'm not really sure how I feel about that either. . ." Adam trailed off. "I guess there isn't much option though, is there?"

"It will be an adjustment either way," Belle began. "But I'm glad you decided to stay here. I love this place."

"I'm glad you do," Adam said and stood to kiss Belle before he left again. Belle blushed and peeked over at her father, unsure about this display of affection in front of him. But her father seemed utterly engrossed in his meal and did not notice, or at least pretended not to.

* * *

Later that day, Belle kept up with her renewed spirit and brought lunch to Adam and Gustave, confident that Mrs. Potts had taken lunch to her father. She knocked on the study door and entered with a tray of food. Both men looked to see who had entered and visibly perked up at the sight of the food.

"This is a most welcome surprise," Gustave said and stood to take the tray from her. "Thank you, my dear."

"What are you working on?" she asked and took a seat although she had not been invited to. She was worried during the first terrifying moment of silence that Gustave wouldn't allow her to stay, but she held her ground.

"Taxes, my lady, and how to properly collect them from the people," he answered and Belle was relieved that Gustave showed no sign of turning her out.

"Oh of course, all the collections were sent to the other castle instead of this one. I wondered why no one seemed to know about this place," she said, helping herself to a plate as the men had. "But Adam told me this was meant as a summer home; will the funds need to be rerouted here or will they continue going to the other?"

Both Gustave and Adam looked at her with matching expression of surprise and Belle couldn't help feeling a bit pleased with herself. Apparently neither of them had expected her to take much interest in these sorts of things, but she felt it was important for her to understand at least some of the laws. It might not be quite the fairy tale she had imagined, but she could certainly consider it an adventure.

"Adam, this lady of yours is quite clever. Perhaps you could be convinced to sit in with us on some of these lessons?" he asked Belle.

"Of course. I'd like to know more about this sort of thing, but you must also allow me time with Adam. You're monopolizing him, monsieur," she said in a teasing note, hoping her tone would keep him from being offended.

"Please call me Gustave. And you're quite right, my dear. I've been terribly unfair to you both, keeping Adam cooped up here with me. You may take him whenever you wish."

"I'm right here, you know," Adam grumbled as he cut the meat on his plate. Belle laughed and was surprised to hear Gustave join in with a deep chuckle.

"I'm sorry, my love. I promise I will always ask you before I want to borrow you," she teased.

"You make me sound like one of your books," he complained but Belle noticed his unsuccessfully hidden smile. "You're sure you don't mind, uncle?"

"Not at all. I shall be returning to the court in a few days anyway as soon as this cursed rain stops, which will give you plenty of time to spend with your lovely lady. I might ask you to come with me, but I am not sure how the others might react to seeing a ghost. I think I'll have to ease them into the idea. Those old crows don't like change much."

"You make them sound perfectly awful," Belle said, hoping that Gustave might deny this.

"I'm afraid they are, my dear, but only because their occupations have made them so. I imagine it would be difficult to keep cheerful while bent over dusty, boring volumes in dim rooms for days at a time. Not that I have anything against reading, you understand," Gustave said with a respectful nod towards Belle. "But the tasks of these men are exceedingly dull and require equally uninteresting work."

"I'm certain you'll be able to convince them about Adam," Belle said, hoping she wasn't being too optimistic.

"Are we going to work at all or can I go?" Adam broke in, causing Belle and Gustave to laugh before returning to their studies.


	31. Chapter 31

Beast's POV

Adam sent his uncle off three days later after the rains stopped to try and convince the rest of the court of Adam's existence. He couldn't help feeling that he should've gone with his uncle, but he was more than happy for the excuse to spend more of his time with Belle. The lessons with his uncle had been more time consuming than he had originally thought, not to mention confusing, boring, and horribly overwhelming. There had been many times where Adam almost longed for the times where he had nothing to worry about but his own misery as a Beast.

After his uncle was gone, Adam decided to seek out Belle and headed straight to the library. As he opened the door to the library, all the thoughts of his lessons and his claim to his inheritance left at the sight that met him. Belle was curled up in her favorite chair by the fire, her legs pulled up under her and a book held so close to her face that Adam could not see her nose. Adam had encountered this same posture many times after he had presented Belle with the library and learnt quickly not to disturb Belle during such moments. He had made the mistake only once of distracting Belle from the book she was all but buried in; apparently, when she was in such a position it meant she was reading a particularly engrossing part of the book. The first and only time he disturbed her like this, he was met with a look of pure disappointment.

"What's wrong?" he had asked, not understanding. It was still early enough in their friendship then for him to worry that he had disappointed her by his mere presence and his heart began to sink.

"Nothing. . .it's just. . .that was such a good part," she replied and set the book aside.

"Don't let me stop you. Keep going."

"I can't. I'll have to start the chapter over again later. It's all right, though."

"Why will you have to start over?"

"It's like—like when you're running and you've just reached your stride, but suddenly you fall because you were distracted. You can't start again in a full run; you have to work yourself up to it. I suppose it's a bit like that: at a particularly exciting part of a book, I'm so engrossed in the story it's like finding my stride and I can't stop reading until I reach the end of it."

Adam felt badly about interrupting what was apparently the height of the book. Looking back, he supposed he knew what it was like; he did, after all, become entirely engrossed in most of the books Belle read to him.

With that memory in his mind, Adam simply took a seat in the chair across from Belle and waited for her to reach a natural stopping point. After a few minutes spent amusing himself watching Belle's expressions of surprise and wonder as she read, he began to leaf through a book that lay at the small table at his elbow. Several minutes later, a small sigh drew his attention back to Belle.

"How was it?" he asked as Belle lowered the book and saw her unsurprised smile when she noticed him sitting there.

"Suspenseful," she replied with another sigh and stroked the binding of the book.

"Well don't let me stop you. Keep reading if you want," he insisted. There was nothing pressing to do and he was more than happy to sit in peace with Belle nearby as long as she was happy.

"I thought I might take you to see what Louis and I have done in the garden. It looks beautiful now that the flowers have begun to bloom." She sounded so excited, how could Adam possibly say no? As she led him outside, Adam couldn't help but admire her animated babble about working the earth and helping the flowers grow. Nothing she spoke of sounded remotely like anything he wished to do himself, but he loved how her face lit up almost as brightly as when she talked about her books.

"Here it is!" she announced and motioned to a small garden bed against the walls of the castle. It was filled with colorful flowers whose names Adam didn't know and he discovered that he felt no joy at the sight.

"It's beautiful," he complimented dutifully. Though these flowers looked nothing like it, Adam couldn't help but see the enchanted rose that had ruled over his life for so long. This was the first time since the curse that he encountered flowers and he found that his previous indifference to them had grown into strong distaste at the knowledge of what one flower had cost him. But Belle enjoyed them and he had no intention of spoiling the beauty she had created despite the sharp memories of the Beast that flooded his mind. "You must have worked hard to grow these." He forced his mouth into a smile and hoped he could hide is discomfort.

"Yes, we did. It was kind of Louis to let me help with this; it was good to have a distraction while you were working with your uncle," she said as she leaned over to pluck a dead leaf from one of the stems of a purple blossom. Adam nodded but said nothing, trying to keep the image of the rose that was still suspended under the bell jar in the West Wing from his mind.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested after a few moments of politely looking at the work Belle was clearly proud of. Once he was away from the perfume and blossoms of the flowers, his uncomfortable memories of his years as the Beast began to subside and he felt more like himself.

"It's getting so warm now," Belle commented as they walked the paths. "We should go on a picnic or for a ride soon. I'm sure Philippe is getting a bit stir crazy."

"I haven't ridden since I was a boy," Adam admitted. "But I have no doubt you'll teach me how." Judging by her sweet smile, Belle seemed to understand his reference to all that she had taught him to do while he was a Beast. "We should wait a bit though," he added. "The grounds are still too muddy." To make his point, he prodded the ground beside the path with the toe of his boot, the muddy ground making a loud squelching noise as he did.

"Louis said that the large garden is in bloom now," Belle said conversationally. "I haven't been there yet. Would you like to go see it with me?" Adam suppressed a flinch at the thought of walking through the walls of flowers, their bobbing faces taunting him as the flowers in Belle's small garden had. He had walked with Belle there many times in the winter when the flower beds were little more than sparkling snow banks, but he wasn't sure he was able to go there now. This new distaste for flowers complicated the plans he had begun to make, too. . .

"Perhaps another time," he muttered. His voice sounded gruff to his own ears and he noticed Belle's look of surprise, but he could think of no way to explain himself without admitting his rather foolish reason for staying away. "Are you hungry?" he asked, making sure to lighten his voice enough to make Belle realize he wasn't truly angry as his previous tone had suggested. Belle looked at him curiously for another moment, but apparently decided not to stress the issue.

"Starving," she replied and took a better hold on his arm.

* * *

"What am I going to do, Lumiere?" he groaned to the maitre d' that evening. He had just bid Belle goodnight after spending a long overdue day with her, but he could not possibly think of sleep at a time like this. So he called Lumiere and told him about what had happened at Belle's small garden. "What we planned for the garden was perfect, but I don't know if I can stand being there now. All because of this horrible rose," he growled and waved a hand angrily at the floating rose on the table by the balcony. "That flower ruined my life, now I can't stand to be around any of them!"

"You can always go somewhere else, Master," Lumiere suggested hesitantly. "The library perhaps."

"I thought about that, but it's not special enough. We spend nearly every day there. But it was when I watched Belle walk in the garden, the day I gave her the library, that I realized I started to care for her. It would be perfect, I just need to find a way around the flowers." He moved to lean his hands on the small table and glared hatefully at the red blossom that still somehow controlled his life.

"If I may ask Master, why do you keep the rose?" he heard Lumiere ask. He did not respond for several minutes; he had asked this question himself many times, but could never find an answer, nor could he think of an excuse to get rid of it.

"I—At first I kept it because it was a reminder that the whole thing wasn't a dream and that I really had. . .have someone who cared for me."

"But does Belle's presence not remind you of that now?" Adam nodded and saw what Lumiere was getting at.

"Then I kept it as proof to people like my uncle of what had happened, but he knew all along."

"Is there anyone else you need to prove your story to?"

"You know there isn't. I know what you're saying but even if I could destroy it, it doesn't mean my hatred of flowers will change."

"No, that is true. But is keeping it doing you any favors?" Adam frowned, wishing Lumiere would stop trying to be so clever and just come out and say what he wanted.

"What if I destroy it and it sends us back into the enchantment?" he asked, though the question sounded irrational in his own ears. Lumiere made no answer.

Carefully, still unsure of his intentions, Adam removed the bell jar and placed it carefully on the floor by the table, never taking his eyes off the rose. It remained suspended and Adam dared to reach a hand out to it. He gasped slightly as his fingertip met one silky petal, certain that something horrible would happen at his touch. When nothing happened, Adam took hold of the petal he had touched between his forefinger and thumb and pulled. The stem of the rose never moved, seemingly held in place by whatever magic kept it suspended, but the petal came off easily in his hand. He examined the crimson petal for a moment, delicate and innocent, showing no sign of the years of pain it had caused him.

"I don't think I'll destroy it after all," he said after a moment, still staring at the petal in his hand. "It's just a flower now. See?" He held the unremarkable petal up for Lumiere to examine, realizing that he had been foolish to see anything in Belle's flowers beside their own beauty.

"So, your plans. . .they are still acceptable?" Lumiere's voice was politely curious and Adam smiled knowing that he was trying to contain his emotions.

"I think so. I—I'll have to make sure tomorrow before I. . ." he trailed off as terror flooded his chest at what he planned to do.

"Be bold and daring, Master," Lumiere said as Adam lapsed into silence. Adam grinned at the familiar words and felt a small courage grow amongst the terror. "Have you talked to her father as Cogsworth suggested?"

"Not yet," he confessed, his fear renewing. "I'll do it tomorrow. Can you. . .I mean, will you. . ."

"I shall make sure Belle is elsewhere in the castle while you talk to him," Lumiere assured him and Adam nodded, grateful to Lumiere for both reading his thoughts and helping him plan this ever-important event.

"You should rest, Master. I will see you in the morning." Lumiere bowed and left the West Wing, leaving Adam alone with his thoughts.

He paced the floor in front of the table that still held the rose and wondered what on earth he was going to say to Maurice.

* * *

After a night of little sleep, Adam joined Belle and Maurice for breakfast as he usually did, but that morning he found himself distracted and fidgety. He was sure this behavior would draw questions, so he merely hid his trembling fingers beneath the table or with the weight of food on his fork and avoided eye contact with both Belle and Maurice. Fortunately, neither of them seemed to notice his odd behavior, or at least pretended not to.

When they had all finished eating, Maurice retreated to his workroom and Adam and Belle went for another walk. Adam suggested they return to the small garden Belle tended to under the pretense of seeing if any new blossoms opened. Truly though, Adam wanted to see if his decision not to destroy the enchanted rose had been the right one. _They're only flowers_, he reminded himself. _They've got nothing to do with the enchantment_. If anything, he should be embracing the memories the rose provided of Belle's presence in the castle, both before and after the enchantment was broken.

He approached the garden with some reservation but, though his mind briefly flickered back to the image of the glowing rose of the enchantment, he was quickly able to push it aside and appreciate these flowers for their own harmless beauty.

"May I?" he asked Belle, motioning to the closest patch of flowers: a small bush that held what seemed like hundreds of blossoms in various shades of pink. When she nodded, Adam drew closer to them and took in their sweet aroma and felt himself smile. Perhaps he still did not particularly care for flowers, but he seemed to master his unnecessary anger towards them. An impulsive move caused him to pluck one of the blossoms from the bush and present it to Belle. He grinned and watched a delicate blush grow in her cheeks as Belle took the blossom and tucked it into her hair behind her ear. The flower was illuminated by its new home of chestnut brown, highlighting the beauty of the one who wore it.

"You seem in a much better mood today," Belle commented, clearly desiring an explanation. So Adam took a breath and explained his recent reservations about flowers because of the enchanted rose and what he had accomplished today despite that one horrible rose.

"I never really even thought of it, but I suppose it _was_ a flower that symbolized the entire enchantment. Are you sure you're all right now?" Adam nodded, but before he could respond he caught sight of an old man in a straw had approaching them pushing a small wheelbarrow. He looked familiar to Adam, but at this distance he couldn't quite place who he was. Belle noticed Adam's gaze and turned to see the approaching man.

"Oh, Louis!" Belle exclaimed merrily as the man drew closer.

"Bonjour Belle, Your Highness," the old man replied and bowed to Adam. When he straightened up, Adam was able to catch a glimpse of his face beneath the wide brimmed hat.

"Oh, you're the one who told me about Belle being outside in the rain," he realized. Louis nodded, acknowledging the event, but said nothing.

"You didn't think I would go inside on my own?" Belle asked lightly, almost teasingly. It was clear to Adam that she and Louis had become good friends over their time spent together.

"You seemed a bit distressed. I thought your Prince might want to help you."

"Thank you," Adam said gratefully. "I didn't realize I had been ignoring Belle until you sent me to her. You reminded me of what was important and I never intend treat Belle that way again." Again the man nodded but did nothing more except begin his work in the garden.

"He doesn't talk much," Belle explained quietly to Adam. "I'd like to help him for a little while. Do you want to join us?"

"No, I'm sure I wouldn't be of much help. Besides, I should study a bit so my uncle isn't too angry with me when he comes back. Come and find me when you're done?" Belle nodded in agreement. Adam kissed her goodbye, nodded to Louis, and retreated back inside the castle. But it wasn't to the study Adam's feet took him; instead he wound his way downstairs towards Maurice's workroom. With Belle safely occupied in the garden, Adam knew it was the perfect opportunity to talk to Maurice privately.

As he approached the door to the workroom, however, his previously confident gait began to falter. His hands started to shake and his heart pounded in his ears; once he actually turned to walk away from the workroom, only to turn around again almost angrily and stride quickly to the door before he could change his mind. Adam knocked on the door, almost hoping it wouldn't be heard amidst the loud banging sounds of Maurice's work. But the noises stopped and the door opened a moment later, revealing the stout older man wearing the magnified glasses Adam had quickly grown fond of. Wordlessly, Maurice pushed the glasses back on his head, looked Adam up and down, and stepped aside to let him in.

"I've been wondering when you'd come," Maurice said conversationally as he wiped his hands on a rag and motioned to a stool for Adam.

"I've been here before," Adam reminded him as he sat. Before his uncle had come, Adam spent many an enjoyable hour helping Maurice with his inventions. The one Maurice was working on now was a result of their combined ideas. Adam grinned when he looked at the machine and noticed several parts that could not be mistaken for anything else but the legs from the table in the cottage. Adam spared an amused thought for poor Lefou: he had gotten a house, but had to find all new furniture to fill it with.

"But never just to talk to me," Maurice said and gave Adam a knowing smile. Could Maurice really know why Adam was there? Adam clenched his shaking hands and tried to meet the man's eyes.

"That's true," he said slowly.

"Well?" Maurice prodded.

"I—uh. . ."Adam took a deep breath and tried to take comfort in the fact that Maurice already seemed to guess why he was there and seemed pleased by it. Another deep breath and the words he had practiced with Lumiere came back to him, increasing his confidence. "May I have your blessing to ask for Belle's hand in marriage?" He said it slowly, making sure to enunciate his words even though he wanted to blurt them out and get it over with as quickly as possible. He braved a glance towards Maurice and was encouraged to see him smiling.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Maurice chuckled.

"I—but, will you?" Maurice's response was hardly an answer and Adam had begun to panic all over again.

"Well I'll leave it up to Belle to answer yes or no, of course, but you have my blessing to ask her." Adam's heart soared for a moment, hardly daring to believe he had obtained permission to marry the woman he loved. Except. . .

"Do you think she won't want to?" Adam asked in terror. He couldn't bear to think of the word coming from Belle's lips would be 'no.' She had said 'no' to him before, but those times had only been because he was disagreeable and mean. Surely this wasn't the case now?

"I know that Belle loves you, but I also know she'll do what she thinks is right for herself," Maurice replied. Adam could tell his words were meant to comfort, but they only made Adam panic more.

"But she took your place when I locked you in the dungeon. _That_ wasn't in her own best interests," he pointed out although he was loathe to bring up the subject.

"No, but refusing to marry Gaston even when I was in danger of being thrown into the asylum was," Maurice retorted. "I'm glad she did that: I could not have lived knowing she was forced into such a thing because of me. Gaston had demanded her heart, soul, body, and mind. You only wanted her presence in exchange for mine. That's quite a large difference, especially in Belle's mind. Besides, after spending all that time with you, she seemed to have a firmer grasp at what she wanted in life. Finding the strength to deny Gaston like that, with so much at stake, took a courage and a knowledge of herself even I didn't know she had." Adam nodded but suddenly felt ill. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to go through with this.

"Don't worry my boy," Maurice said and reached up to place a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Belle loves you. I've never seen her so happy as I have when she's with you. I do have one request though." Adam watched as Maurice went to the workbench at the back of the room, moved a few items around, and reached back to grab something hidden. He returned to where Adam waited, his hands cupped around the item.

"Would you give Belle this when you ask her?" Adam carefully took the offered item and examined the small box Adam suspected was made my Maurice himself. Realizing what Maurice had just given him, Adam opened the lid to reveal a dainty silver ring with a single small diamond in its center. It was simple, but very elegant and Adam felt a smile creep across his face as he pictured it on Belle's finger.

"It was her mother's," Maurice explained, though Adam had already guessed that. "I understand if you already picked out another. . ." Maurice began hastily, but Adam interrupted him.

"No, this one is perfect. Thank you," he said, feeling his gratitude well up from deep inside himself, almost overwhelming him.

"Of course, my boy." Maurice's voice cracked and Adam looked away from Maurice's tears.

"I should go put this somewhere Belle won't find it," Adam said uncomfortably.

"Of course, of course," Maurice said with a sniff. "Go on now and let me get back to work. And good luck, my boy." Adam nodded, feeling his stomach twist once again into nervous knots, and left the workroom.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle came in from working in the garden, washed up, and went in search of Adam in good spirits. He wasn't in the study as he said he would be, so Belle ventured up to the West Wing thinking perhaps he had taken his books up there. She and Adam had studied there before; perhaps Adam found it a more comfortable environment.

She knocked on the massive door, uncomfortable about entering Adam's rooms without his permission, at least now that the mystery of the West Wing had been solved some time ago. There was no answer. Becoming slightly frustrated, she decided to check the library in the unlikely event Adam would be there by himself. Though Belle had opened up Adam's mind to books and stories and often read himself now, Adam would rarely visit the library without her. More often than not, she would find him reading in his favorite armchair in the lounge. She would check there, too, but the library was closest.

She never got that far, however. As she climbed back down the steps from the West Wing, she spotted Adam walking down the hall towards her.

"There you are!" she exclaimed and Adam jumped, clearly not expecting her to be there. As she climbed down the remaining steps and closed the distance between them, she noticed Adam hastily shove something into his pocket.

"Belle! I-I thought you were still in the garden," he stammered nervously.

Belle looked at him curiously, but only said, "I just came in a few minutes ago. You asked me to find you, remember?"

"Y-yes. Did you have a good time?" Belle nodded and her confusion at Adam's behavior grew as she noticed a blush creep over his cheeks.

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"Fine," he replied quickly. "Do you want to meet in the library in a few minutes?"

"Why can't we just go now?" she asked. This was getting very odd, indeed. Why was Adam acting so strangely?

"Because. . .because I've torn my trousers. I got them caught on your father's machine."

"Weren't you going to study?" she asked, slightly disappointed but not surprised that Adam ignored his obligation to remember the laws of the land.

"I couldn't concentrate," he blurted. Belle suspected there was more going on than what Adam was telling her, but she didn't press the issue.

"All right, I'll meet you in the library in a few minutes," she agreed and started to walk away. She turned a moment later though to watch Adam's hasty retreat and noticed no obvious holes in his trousers. _Very curious_, she thought to herself and continued on her way to the library.


	32. Chapter 32

_All right, here we go! I put a lot of emotion into this chapter, so I really hope I did justice to this important event. Note there's some backtracking so I can cover both Belle and Adam's POV, similar to what I did for the end of the enchantment in chapters 18, 19 and 20._

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle suppressed a smile as the children sat captivated in front of her. She was reading a rather long tale to them and had been worried they wouldn't like to sit still for so long, but she had been very wrong. Apparently the tale of Robin Hood was as fascinating to the children as it had been for Belle.

She enjoyed reading to the children that occupied the castle; sometimes Belle felt that it had to be very dull for them to spend aimless hours while their parents worked. Although Belle could also understand the attraction of being able to run through the halls, finding secret passageways and unused rooms. They seemed to get along with each other well enough and Belle could see that they had created a sort of family of their own; they were each the other's brother or sister, whether it was by blood or not.

"What about Maid Marian?" one of the girls, Vivian, asked earnestly as Belle finished the story she had been reading from the collection of Robin Hood tales.

"They get married, stupid," one of the boys retorted.

"Philip, we don't say things like that," Belle scolded. "Now apologize."

"Sorry," Philip grunted. "But they do, don't they?"

"Get married? You'll have to wait and see now, won't you?" Belle replied.

"I think they do," Chip put in. "Like Belle and the Master will, right Belle?"

"I really couldn't say, Chip," Belle replied after a moment spent recovering from so direct a question to her heart. "He hasn't asked me yet."

"Why not?" several of the children chimed. That was a question Belle herself had been asking for quite some time now.

"I suppose it's because he's been busy with his uncle," she replied hastily, eager to move on from this uncomfortable topic. "Now run along and play. You shouldn't be inside on a day like today." A few of them groaned, clearly eager to have this question answered, but they allowed themselves to be shooed out of the library.

As soon as she was alone in the massive room, Belle sat heavily on the cushions of window seat, mentally exhausted and very confused. Why _hadn't_ Adam asked her to marry him? She was trying to be patient, but it had been over a month since the enchantment was broken and the children were not the only ones to be asking questions. Estelle especially had not been shy about mentioning things like what Belle's wedding gown should look like.

It was a very eventful month for both Belle and Adam, she reasoned. _The timing is all wrong_, she told herself, but she couldn't make herself believe it.

And, well. . .Adam _had_ been acting very peculiar lately. Yesterday Belle noticed how Adam couldn't get away fast enough with some odd story about a tear in his trousers and her mind flashed back to the moment where he had hid something from her in his pocket. And he even admitted to being with her father that day, too. Her heart began to beat faster in excitement, but she quickly quelled it, certain she was seeing clues where there were none. She stood with a sudden determination to visit her father, trying to convince herself that it had nothing to do with her wanting to find out why Adam had been there yesterday in his jacket and good trousers.

"Papa?" she called as she entered his workroom. "Papa are you here?"

"Belle?" Her father emerged from underneath his machine. "I thought you'd be in the garden today. It's so beautiful outside."

"I was just reading to the children," she explained. "And what about you, cooped up in this room every day?"

"Oh, I get out, don't you worry. Have you seen Adam today?"

"I—no, I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Belle raised an eyebrow at him, but he only smiled and turned back to his machine.

"He said he was down here yesterday," Belle started conversationally, stepping forward to idly spin a gear on the machine.

"Yes, he was," he confirmed, his voice muffled from beneath the machine's bulk. "We got to talking about some improvements on this hunk of junk." Belle smiled at this familiar phrase used for almost every invention her father worked on. She wasn't entirely convinced what he said about Adam was the whole truth, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get much else from her father while he was working.

"I'll see you later, Papa," she called over the noise of his tools.

"Bye, Belle!" he called, never ceasing his work.

Belle left the workroom more confused than ever. Adam _had_ been down to see her father but, if her father was to be believed, it was only to help his work. Belle shook her head and again tried to stifle the irrational bubble of excitement that grew in her stomach. She retreated to the library with the intent of taking a book outside to read in the warm spring sunlight. Perhaps she would ask Adam to come with her. Surely seeing him calm and acting no differently than usual would ease her wild ideas.

"There you are," Adam's voice met her as she approached the library doors. He stepped out of the shadow of the doorway and Belle stopped walking, surprised to see Adam dressed in a rather dashing deep green coat she had not seen before. Though Adam never looked quite disheveled, except when he had been working with her father, Belle noticed that he seemed especially well groomed now.

"Hello," she greeted him warmly. "I was just coming to pick a book to read outside. Would you like to join me?"

"Well, actually I was just coming to see if you would like me to take you to the large gardens behind the castle," he replied.

"Oh, yes please!" she exclaimed, excited to at last be seeing the gardens. She could have gone a number of times herself, of course, but somehow she felt that this was a place she wanted to share with someone. Besides, she had heard that the gardens were a maze of flowers and bushes and she had no ambition of being the fool who got lost among them. Adam grinned and offered his arm to her which she willingly took. The fabric of the jacket was soft against her skin and she longed to rest her cheek against it. That would have made walking a bit difficult, however, so she restrained herself.

"You look nice today," she commented after a moment of silent walking through the castle.

"Thank you," he responded, but said nothing more. As they drew near the doors that would lead them outside to the gardens Belle had only seen covered in snow, she felt Adam begin to tremble. Adam released her arm to open the door for her and Belle took the opportunity to examine his face. His expression was set into one of determination, but he looked rather pale. Again, not quite inexplicably, her stomach began to flutter in excitement.

* * *

Beast's POV

"This is it, Master," Lumiere exclaimed excitedly as he helped Adam into a handsome forest green jacket. "How do you feel?"

"Sick," Adam grunted. He did indeed feel very nauseous at what he was about to do. Was he supposed to feel this way?

"Good!" Cogsworth cheered.

"Good?" Adam couldn't believe the response he was getting.

"Yes, Master. That means you are worried about the outcome!"

"Of course I'm worried about the outcome!" he snapped impatiently. He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous. What if she says no?"

Cogsworth looked helplessly at Lumiere, so Adam turned to the man who had helped him through nearly every romantic obstacle Adam had come across.

"Do you love her, Master?" he asked gently.

"With all my heart."

"What would you do to make her happy?

"Anything," he said quickly. "Anything at all."

"Then how do you know this will not make her happy?"

"Yes, but what if it _doesn't_?" he moaned.

"If I may say, Master," Cogsworth started. "Even _I_ have seen how Belle lights up when she's with you."

"I'm supposed to make the flame jokes, my friend," Lumiere joked.

"Yes, yes, of course," Cogsworth chuckled. "The point is, if she didn't love you, we wouldn't have gotten out of the curse. What more proof could you ask for?"

"A 'yes,'" Adam replied, though he felt some of his fear ebb at Cogsworth's words. Of course Belle loved him, for the reason Cogsworth pointed out, but also for the warmth Adam saw in Belle's eyes whenever she looked at him. It was the same warmth he felt when he was in her presence.

He straightened up, adjusted his jacket, and took a deep breath. "All right," he said. "I'm ready."

"Good luck, Master," Lumiere said, handing him the tiny box that concealed Belle's mother's ring. Adam glanced quickly inside the box to make sure the ring was still there before putting safely in the pocket inside his jacket.

The walk down to the library unnerved Adam, but he was able to snatch a few moments to compose himself when he found Belle was not, in fact, in the library. Belle approached the library not long after, allowing him only a minute to himself. Adam was stunned for a moment as he watched his (hopefully) future bride approach. She was so beautiful he almost couldn't breathe; the soft pink of her dress bringing out the delicate flush in her cheeks and the sleeves that went only to her elbows showed her fair skin. He took another deep breath to quiet his suddenly wildly beating heart, greeted her, and escorted her successfully down to the garden.

As he approached the door that led outside, he felt himself begin to shake. In a matter of minutes, he would be faced with asking what probably would be the most important question of his life. Fortunately, Belle did not seem to notice his trembling, being too busy admiring the millions of flowers Adam had just presented to her. The gardens were quite beautiful, but he was unable to concentrate on anything except when the moment would arrive to ask the seemingly impossible question.

Belle was chatting merrily to him, pointing out the different types of flowers that surrounded them and admiring how beautiful everything was. Adam could respond with little more than nods in agreement, terrified that if he tried to speak, he would blurt out the question before he was ready for no other reason than he was going over and over it in his head to make sure it was exactly right.

As they approached a stretch of the path that was home to thousands of roses, Belle paused to take in their aroma and Adam knew this was it: this was the moment he had been waiting for.

* * *

Belle's POV

Adam opened the door for her and Belle was momentarily breathless by what she saw just beyond the door. She recognized the basic structure of the garden with its low wall and stone patio that led into it, but now the stone wall was nearly covered in the reaching vines of a delicate purple flower. The previously shapeless, snow covered lumps that lay beyond the wall had transformed with the spring air into beautiful shrubs that marked the beginning of a white stone pathway. Beyond the crisp, spring green of the shrubs Belle could see the beckoning color of the flowers.

"Oh Adam, it's beautiful!" she cried in delight and led him eagerly along the path, pointing out the different types of flowers she noticed. She noticed that Adam hung back and seemed rather sullen, and suddenly she recalled how Adam had confessed how the flowers reminded him of the enchanted rose. He said he had worked passed it, but perhaps he had been a bit too optimistic about it.

"Adam, are you all right?" she asked. Adam looked at her and nodded with what Belle guessed was supposed to be a reassuring smile, but she wasn't entirely convinced. She was distracted from him, however, when she noticed what was just ahead of them: seemingly endless garden beds and walls all lined with roses of every imaginable color.

She bent to the nearest blossom, a deep crimson rose with a wide, welcoming face. Its sweet scent washed over her and for a moment she couldn't remember why she had felt so nervous just a few moments ago. When she straightened up and found Adam suddenly standing quite close to her, however, she was vividly reminded of her anxiousness and inexplicably blushed.

"Belle," he began and reached up to tuck a strand of hair away from her forehead. She shivered at the warmth and nearness of him. "Belle, I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied, emotion filling her voice as she met his beautiful deep blue eyes.

"Are you happy here?" Belle smiled at the familiar question and was about to answer, but at the last moment decided to turn the question back on Adam.

"Are _you_ happy?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm and stroking the soft fabric under her fingers.

"I—yes, I am," he replied, sounding surprised at this turn. "Don't you know how happy you make me? I never thought I'd find someone like you. You're so brave and kind. You pulled me out of a nightmare and showed me how good life can be." Belle felt herself blush as such a profound compliment. Though she didn't doubt Adam's sincerity, she found it hard to believe she had done all that. Adam seemed set on speaking, so she didn't interrupt to point this out. "I love you so much. I never thought it was possible for me to love someone as deeply as I do you." He trailed off and reached up to rub the back of his neck and, for one brief moment, Belle vividly saw her Beast standing before her, eager but so unsure of himself.

Although she had wished and hoped for such a thing, she was completely unprepared for what happened next. Adam sunk onto one knee before her and took her hands, looking up at her earnestly. He reached into his coat and drew out a small box that Belle quickly recognized as the one that held her mother's ring. Belle suddenly felt dizzy and her knees began to shake. Adam opened the lid, revealing the diamond ring inside and Belle gasped.

"Belle, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you. . .would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam took a breath and stepped towards Belle, knowing what he had to do but terrified that it might go awry. When Belle straightened up from the rose and looked at him, Adam was momentarily stunned as he looked into her kind, beautiful brown eyes. "Belle," he said, her name slipping passed his lips involuntarily as he gazed at her. Unable to help himself, he gently pushed back a strand of hair from her forehead and continued the sentence his heart had started for him. "Belle, I love you."

"I love you, too," she replied quickly and Adam's heart swelled at the emotion and honesty he heard in her voice. She seemed so content with him like this, but he knew he had to be sure before he asked the ever-important question.

"Are you happy here?" he asked, knowing he had asked before but needing the reassurance of her inevitably honest answer, whatever it might be.

"Are _you_ happy?" she said and placed a hand on his arm. Adam's eyes widened in surprise; he had never really considered his own happiness before. Everything he had done since. . .well since he had let Belle go the night he had shown her the magic mirror, had been for her. Even taking his place as Prince had been because Belle had shown him that it was right. But as Adam gazed at Belle, so beautiful and so gentle, he had no doubt of the answer.

"I—yes, I am. Don't you know how happy you make me?" His words began to flow from his heart of their own accord, speaking truths he never had the courage to say before. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. You're so good and kind. You pulled me out of a nightmare and showed me how good life can be. I love you so much. I never thought it was possible for me to love someone as deeply as I do you." Knowing what had to come next, but alternately terrified and elated by it, he knelt at Belle's feet and took her hands. He understood at least one reason why the man must kneel while proposing: it was less likely he would fall over with fright when he asked the terrifying question.

Remembering the box just in time, he drew it from the pocket inside his coat, reluctantly releasing Belle's hands to do so. He opened its small lid and heard Belle gasp. Steeling himself, he looked back up at Belle. He and Lumiere had practiced the question Adam was about to ask over and over again, but as Adam gazed up at Belle, at his love, what he said next came from his own heart. "Belle, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you. . .would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

There was a pause the span of half of heartbeat but what felt to Adam to be as long as a century.

"Yes! Yes, of course I will!" Belle exclaimed and Adam's heart threatened to burst with overwhelming joy. Nothing, not the end of the enchantment, nor even the first kiss he and Belle shared, could come close to the elation he felt at the knowledge that Belle had agreed to marry him.

Adam stood and pulled Belle into a long kiss, cupping the back of her head gently to pull her closer to him. But that wasn't enough for him, so he wrapped his arms around Belle's waist, still keeping her in the kiss, and twirled her around. He felt her arms wrap around his neck for support, but did not break the kiss until he placed her safely on the ground again and Adam felt Belle's lips curve into a smile.

"I love you," he said as they broke barely a hands breath away, hoping Belle wouldn't tire of hearing those words, for he never grew tired of saying them.

"I love you, too," she replied and kissed him again.

"Oh, I suppose you can have this now," he said, remembering the tiny box in his hand that held the ever-important ring. He delicately plucked the ring out of its place and presented it to Belle who obligingly held out her left hand. Adam paused for half a moment, afraid that he might place it on the wrong finger, but Belle subtly moved the third finger and Adam nearly laughed. He suppressed the urge and placed the ring on Belle's finger. He was right; the ring looked perfect there.

"This was my mother's," she breathed.

"Your father gave it to me," he explained and kissed the hand he had just placed the ring on. "Is that all right?"

"Of course. I just can't believe. . . you really do want to marry me?"

Adam couldn't help but chuckle. Apparently he had successfully stunned her. "I know it's taken me longer than it should have, but yes, Belle, I want to spend my life with you." Belle looked up from the diamond that now decorated her finger to gaze into his eyes. Adam drew her into another kiss, and there were no more words between them for quite a long while.


	33. Part 3: Chapter 33

Belle's POV

"Oh, that's _wonderful,_ my dear!" Mrs. Potts praised as she examined the ring that newly adorned Belle's hand. Belle smiled, seeing for the hundredth time that day Adam kneeling before her, offering to share his life with her. "I'm so happy for you! There's so much to plan now! Oh, I haven't been so excited in goodness knows how long."

"I haven't told Papa yet, so try and keep it to yourself for now. I want him to hear it from me," she requested, wondering how her father might react to the news.

"Then you'd best hurry, dearest. Things like this don't stay secret for long. Come, we'll find the Master and you can go together," Mrs. Potts offered and led Belle out of the lounge where Belle had found the kind old woman, eager to share her news. "Why isn't the Master with you just now, anyway?" Mrs. Potts asked as they walked.

"When we came in from the gardens, Cogsworth approached us with a letter from his uncle. Adam went off to deal with it but promised he'd find me as soon as he could," Belle explained quickly, unwilling to spoil the day by dwelling on Adam's hasty, if necessary, departure.

"Oh, _Cogsworth_," Mrs. Potts sighed in exasperation. "He couldn't give you two _one_ day in peace! I'm going to have a few words with him next time I see him." Belle smiled at Mrs. Potts' motherly defense and was glad of it. She could never take on Cogsworth on her own with such things, but Mrs. Potts was well aware of what buttons to push to make Cogsworth comply.

Mrs. Potts pushed open the door to the West Wing to reveal Cogsworth and Adam in the middle of what appeared to be a heated debate.

"Ahem," Mrs. Potts cleared her throat pointedly, immediately drawing the attention of the two men. Belle grinned and hoped that one day she might gain such a power. "Am I to understand, Cogsworth, that you interrupted the Master and Belle on what was one of the most important days of their lives?"

"I—My dear Mrs. Potts, you don't understand. This letter. . ." he held up the page in his hands, apparently prepared to explain himself, but Mrs. Potts was having none of it.

"I don't care if the world is crashing down around our ears. You leave these young people be," she retorted and Belle bit her lip in an effort to keep from laughing. Cogsworth tried to stammer something, but Mrs. Potts simply spoke over him. "Now, Master, Belle has told me you have not gone to see her father yet. Perhaps you should do so before he hears such news from someone else." Belle watched as Adam opened his mouth as if to argue, seemed to think better of it, and walked over to Belle, unsuccessfully suppressing an amused grin.

"I'm glad you're here," he muttered in Belle's ear as they left Cogsworth at the mercy of Mrs. Potts. "I'm sorry I had to leave you so soon, but what Cogsworth had to say _was_ important. Uncle Gustave is returning tomorrow, and he's bringing some of the—the lesser lords of my lands. A Marquis and a Comte, I think."

"Well, all those lessons seem to be paying off," Belle said, impressed at the knowledge Adam was able to display now.

"Something had to stick after all that time spent," he chuckled.

"So does this mean you're alive again to the outside world?"

"I hope so. There wasn't much in the letter; it seemed rather quickly written so I don't know much. We'll find out tomorrow, I suppose. Will you be there with me when they come?"

"Always," she replied and subtly touched her thumb to the band on her finger. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me now."

Adam grinned and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked. "Good," he said and gently kissed the top of her head. Belle wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head against his shoulder, happy to be included in this, and whatever else they might encounter, as equal partners.

"Papa?" she called as he and Adam walked into the workroom. She was a bit nervous about informing her father about her engagement, but excitement overwhelmed most of her unease.

"Belle! _And_ Adam," her father greeted as he emerged from behind his machine. "What are you two doing down here?" Belle noticed his obvious grin and began smiling herself.

"_Papa_," she sighed. "You know perfectly well what we're doing here." Her father glanced carefully between Belle and Adam until Belle held up her hand, displaying the ring as proof of what she suspected he already knew. He said nothing, but stepped forward and embraced her, holding her so tightly Belle could hardly breathe.

"I'm so proud of you," he said in her ear. "_So_ proud. And your mother would be, too." Belle could think of nothing to say, stunned by the concentrated emotion in her father's voice. She was spared from speaking, though, as her father turned to Adam. "Well done, my boy. Well done, indeed. You take good care of her now, or you can be sure I'll have something to say about it."

"I have every intention of doing so," Adam replied, looking at Belle with such obvious warmth Belle couldn't help but blush.

"I'm sure it's too soon yet, but are there any ideas about the wedding?"

"Not yet," Belle replied. "We've just got word that Adam's uncle is coming back tomorrow with a Marquis and a Comte, so I think we should take care of that first."

"Are you sure?" Adam said quickly. "I can send them away, you know." Belle could see that Adam was serious, that he would use his newly regained power to send away such important guests.

"No, this is important and much more complicated than a wedding. Besides, the wedding should be a celebration, not an event to mark the beginning of more difficulties."

"You'll have plenty of difficulties after the wedding, anyway," her father put in.

"Yes, but we don't need to add to them by putting this off for so long. Besides, waiting till after this is sorted out will let the wedding be about family and love, not about the court," Belle replied, making sure to put a note of finality in her voice, letting her men know this was what she wanted. Her decision was met with seemingly stunned silence which gradually drew grins out of both Adam and her father.

"Good girl," her father said with a nod and Belle watched Adam's smile grow. "And you can just leave me out of that business altogether, if you don't mind. I'm perfectly happy hiding down here if need be." Adam chuckled and nodded, adding that he wished he could hide down here as well.

"Now, I think we have some work to do, you and I," Belle said to Adam. "Will I see you for dinner, Papa?"

"Of course, my dear. Run along now and help your fiancé." With another loving smile at Belle, he shooed them out of his workroom. Belle's heart gave a comfortable flutter at the words 'your fiancé' and took Adam's arm to lead him into the hall.

"Fiancé, " Adam chuckled as he closed the door behind them.

"Don't you like it?" she teased.

"It's just odd hearing it. I never thought anything like this would happen to me. It's still a shock to just wake up in the morning and find that I'm not covered in fur or have a tail," Adam admitted with a crooked, guilty sort of smile.

"You're lucky you've put me in such a good mood, otherwise I'd scold you and tell you how much you deserve to be happy, Beast or no," Belle replied stepping closer to her betrothed and running her hand along his jaw.

"You can't really be saying that you'd still want to be with me if I was still the Beast," Adam protested, his voice and expression made it clear he was in disbelief at her words.

"And what if I am? It wouldn't matter to me, because I fell in love with _you_. Not the Beast, and not the human man I suspected was inside. Just you. Though I'm sure it is a bit easier for my father to comprehend and approve of us now that you're human."

"But, I don't—" Adam began, but Belle interrupted him.

"When you were. . .were dying on the balcony when, well, you know." Belle wasn't willing to recall too much detail about that horrible moment. "I would've given anything just for you to be all right. I never asked, never wanted anything more than for you to come back to me, to see you look at me again and hear your voice. All I wanted was to have you back, any way I could."

"I—I don't know what to say," Adam stammered after a moment. "I know you somehow, were able to see beyond the Beast, but it _really_ didn't matter to you? Truly?"

"Truly. Though, as I said, it does make things a bit simpler now." Belle could see Adam try to comprehend such an idea, so Belle pushed herself onto her toes and kissed him, successfully drawing his attention back to what was more important: that she and Adam were together.

* * *

Beast's POV

"They're right behind me," Uncle Gustave puffed as he hurried through the doors of the castle the next morning. He made his way quickly towards where Adam stood with Belle in the entrance hall, many of the servants lining the walls to greet their guests. "Please tell me you were, ah. . .successful in your goal while I was gone."

Adam grinned at his uncle and turned to Belle. "Well, was I successful?" he asked her. He watched as Belle's lips turned into a smile of understanding and leaned around Adam to respond to his uncle.

"I'd say so," she said simply and held her hand to Gustave's own outstretched hand to show the ring as evidence of her statement.

"Wonderful, wonderful! I'm happy for you both of course, but you should know that the Marquis brought his daughter along, and she is _horrid_. Ah, here you are!" Adam was amazed at how quickly his uncle could appear so calm as the nobles walked through the door when moments before he had been in a clear panic. Adam stepped towards the three visitors; one man and a girl who clung to the older gentleman were dressed in what Adam thought were rather silly outfits, dripping with lace and jewels. Adam restrained a grimace, realizing quickly that they had meant to intimidate him and tried not to admit that it was very nearly working. Fortunately, their attempts at daunting him were ruined slightly by the more appropriately dressed, not to mention more amiable looking, man beside them.

"May I present His Highness, Prince Adam Christophe, and his lovely fiancée, Lady Belle," Gustave introduced formally, though Adam was grateful Gustave did not use all of Adam's names and that he provided Belle with a title, though Adam noticed the gilded man and his daughter glanced oddly at each other as they bowed deeply to Adam. At their bows, Adam did his best to keep from taking a step backward; he would never get used to people paying such homage to him.

"Your Highness, this is the Marquis de Beauvau and his daughter Nicole, and the Comte de Bourbon." Adam bowed as he was taught, slightly at the waist but low enough to pay the correct amount of respect. Bows were difficult, confusing things.

"I'm so pleased you have come," Adam said, trying to enunciate his words as best he could. "I know there is. . .much confusion about my absence. Perhaps we could go into the parlor and my uncle and I can discuss it with you. Mrs. Potts will take care of your servants," he added, motioning to Mrs. Potts who abruptly went towards the servants who followed their own masters into the castle. Adam offered his arm to Belle and led them all into the formal parlor he rarely used.

Adam spent much of the next several hours relaying to these visitors the story he and his uncle had devised. Adam and his uncle told the story of how Adam had been sent away to escape the fever that had claimed his mother and sister and had remained abroad for years to further his education, as his late father wished for him.

It had to be believable, for doubtless the Marquis and Comte would tell the rest of the nobles what they learned that day, but Adam did not have much faith in this story, nor did he have a better one to offer. Before his uncle left to return to the main castle, he and Adam had decided it would be best to remain as vague as possible and pretend to be offended if they asked for more specific details. Adam knew he was not very skilled at lying, so he could only respond to their questions where he could and hope his uncle would take over with the rest.

Not even Belle, who was originally so insistent that Adam reveal the enchantment to his uncle, argued with their plan. She agreed that the less these nobles knew, the better. Something as unbelievable as the enchantment should be kept within a small circle, since it could quickly ruin Adam if it was not accepted. And, judging by the Marquis' attitude alone, it had been a wise decision to tell a different story.

"We had not heard from him," Adam's uncle explained as their story came to a close, "because we assumed him dead and had not contacted him, so Adam had not thought to contact us."

"For ten years?" the Marquis protested. "You did not write home for ten years?"

"I was traveling quite frequently. I imagine many of my letters had gotten lost," Adam explained, prepared for this question at least. "If I had known my father was ill, I would have returned home sooner, of course."

"But how did—"

"Dinner is served," Cogsworth interrupted before the Marquis could ask any more awkward questions.

"Thank you, Cogsworth," Adam said, trying not to sound too relieved, and stood to lead every one into the formal dining hall.

Before he could offer Belle his arm once more, the Marquis daughter Nicole swooped in and took hold of Adam's elbow. Adam was shocked at the girl's forwardness and looked back at Belle for help as the girl fairly dragged him towards the dining room. Belle only smirked amusedly, though, and let him go.

"Where were you _really_, Your Highness?" Nicole asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him. She was young, perhaps sixteen or so, and pouted her lips in what he supposed was meant to make her appear more sweet, but Adam sincerely doubted she was as innocent as she was trying to appear.

"Traveling, like I said," he grunted and all but shook her off as they approached the table, ignoring her as he went to hold a chair out for Belle to the left of his own chair at the head of the table.

Somehow, Adam made it through dinner without giving away the lies he told his guests and successfully avoided Nicole's persistent gaze. He counted no less than seven snide comments aimed towards him by the Marquis, who seemed to insist on overlooking the respect that was due to his Prince. Adam kept his temper, at least enough to reply politely time after time, but then the conversation somehow turned to how Adam had met Belle.

"I don't recall anyone by your name in the surrounding noble families, my dear," the Marquis said after Adam had refused to bite at his torments. "Where are you from?"

Adam inwardly groaned; for all their preparations, somehow they had all forgotten to think of an acceptable story for Belle. What would the Marquis say if they told him the truth? _It doesn't matter_, Adam told himself resolutely. _I'm going to marry her and then her background won't be questioned_.

"She's was a guest of mine," Adam replied vaguely while Belle was clearly still searching for an appropriate answer.

"While you were traveling?" the Marquis asked pointedly.

"No, when I returned back here in the autumn. She stayed with me for several months and I couldn't help but fall in love with her," he said, casting a warm look towards Belle.

"But, and I ask again, where are you from?" the Marquis pressed.

"She is from the local village, sir," Adam responded, his anger finally beginning to bubble to the surface. "And I expect nothing but courtesy and respect towards her, for soon she will be my wife and I will give her full permission to treat any who disobey me as she sees fit." Adam couldn't help the small inward smile at the Marquis' shocked expression and his stammered apology.

"That is lovely, my dear," the Comte put in calmly. "I would so like to hear more about your life there."

"Would you really?" Belle sounded genuinely surprised.

"Yes, indeed. The Comtesse and I take great pride in our villages. She could not make the journey today, of course since she had taken ill."

"Please send her our regards. I should like to meet her," Belle replied with a pleasant smile.

"I will, my lady, thank you." Adam sighed with relief; at least _someone_ here was treating Belle with the kindness she deserved.

* * *

"Well, at least that's over," Adam sighed after the Marquis' daughter finally left the parlor where Adam, Belle, and their guests had gone after dinner. The Marquis and the Comte had left for their rooms almost an hour earlier, but Nicole insisted on bending Adam's ear about his travels, attempting to sit as close as possible to Adam and all but ignoring Belle while Adam was forced to come up with lies of his travels over and over again.

"I don't think your troubles with _her_ will be over until we are married," Belle replied and Adam smiled at the slight huff in her voice.

"Why Belle, you're not _jealous_, are you?" he teased gently.

"Of her? Impossible. I know you'd never fall for someone as dimwitted as her. At least, I hope you wouldn't."

"You _are_ jealous!" he exclaimed and went over to embrace her, somehow adoring the fact that she was threatened by this silly girl.

"And _you_ are enjoying this far too much," she retorted as she obligingly wrapped her arms around him.

"This is new for me; I've never had so many women pining for my attention before," he continued to tease her a bit.

"You're not funny, you know," she said indignantly, her voice muffled slightly by his jacket as she leaned her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry, my love. Nicole's just a silly girl looking to raise her status. You're not really upset, are you?"

"Of course not," she said, raising her face so Adam could see her smile. "But she's going to be quite a handful while she's here."

"Her father isn't all that great, either," Adam added. "The longer he stays, I'm afraid he'll find out we've lied to them."

"I'm glad you told the truth about me, though," Belle said, her hand coming up to wrap her fingers gently in his hair. "I know it will make everything a bit harder but. . ."

"I couldn't lie about how I met you," Adam interrupted, removing her hand from its nervous movements in his hair to enfold it in his own hands. "You are the one good thing that's ever happened to me. Lying about it just seemed so. . .so wrong."

"Thank you," she said and burrowed her cheek into his jacket once again. Adam folded his arms around her slight figure and knew that with her by his side, he could face anything, even the horrid Marquis and his contemptible daughter.

* * *

**I hope I'm not drawing the story out too long, but I'm having such fun writing it! I promise I'll get to the point soon, though.**

**Thank you again for such wonderful reviews. I'm ****especially ****glad you enjoyed the proposal chapter!  
**


	34. Chapter 34

Beast's POV

Adam's patience had never been so strongly tested as it was during the Marquis' stay, despite Belle's helpful presence. The Comte was a cheery, down to earth man who reminded Adam strongly of Belle's father, but the Marquis was disagreeable enough to overshadow any good the Comte's presence might have provided. At Gustave's suggestion, Adam took his guests on a tour of the castle, making sure to show them several portraits of Adam's family that now hung along some of the walls.

These portraits had been recently taken from storage where the servants had hid them; Adam had ordered them destroyed shortly after his father left, but now Adam was glad to find the servants had disobeyed him in this. Though it was odd to see these portraits, feeling rather like ghosts from his past, it was good to see his sister and mother's faces once again. It was also necessary for these portraits to exist to banish any doubts the Marquis and Comte might still have about Adam's claim to be who he was.

One portrait in particular Adam found in the north hall pulled at Adam's heart in a way he had not experienced since he was a boy. The portrait was of his entire family: father, mother, sister, and himself. Adam could remember posing for it; he was four at the time and whined about how his stiff outfit itched his neck. But the little boy in the silly suit could not be anyone but Adam, which would confirm Adam's claim even to the disagreeable Marquis.

It was odd to see himself as a child, ignorant to what was waiting for him. This boy had no idea that the mother and sister he stood beside would soon be dead, that the father who stood stiffly to his other side would abandon him, and that he would fall victim to an enchantment that would haunt his dreams even after it was broken.

Adam looked away from this ignorant, selfish boy, ignoring altogether his dark-haired, stern father who stood beside the boy, and found himself lingering instead on the faces of his mother and sister.

His sister, who was two years old at the time the portrait was done, had also been fussing about her own itchy outfit and Adam smiled remembering how she would follow him around, mimicking him almost constantly. He had hated it at the time, but now Adam only found the memory endearing. She looked content enough in the painting, smiling sweetly from her place in her mother's lap, wearing a pale pink, almost white dress, her strawberry blond curls framing her face. His mother's hands were wrapped around his sister's stomach, holding the girl in place.

His mother smiled down at Adam as he gazed at the painting. Though frozen in time by the artist who painted it, her smile was comforting to Adam and he found himself drawing forward memories of her embrace, her voice, and the sweet smile that would calm him when he was at his worst.

"You look so much like your father, Your Highness," the Comte remarked, breaking into Adam's thoughts. "But, if I may say, you have your mother's soul."

"Thank you," Adam replied, bowing his head slightly at the heartwarming compliment. "No one could have such a kind heart as her, though."

"I think Lady Belle could match her," the Comte said with a smile and Adam beamed.

"Ah yes, the farm girl," the Marquis cut in. "Are you sure such a match is suitable, Your Highness? _Sweet_ as she is?" Adam's smile immediately dropped and he restrained several harsh words he wouldn't have hesitated speaking, or yelling, when he was still the Beast.

"Lady Belle had shown herself equal, if not more so, to any noble lady I have encountered," Gustave put in before Adam could say a word. "She is the better of any noble woman I could possibly think of to wed our Prince."

Adam was aware that Gustave had just insulted the Marquis' daughter, since Adam would very likely have had to marry Nicole had his life taken a different turn. Judging by the rather purple hue the Marquis was turning, he was well aware of it himself.

"Now see here. . ." the Marquis huffed. But before he could get much further, the Comte stepped in.

"I'm getting quite hungry," he said quickly. "Perhaps we should collect the ladies and fine some luncheon?"

"Good idea," Adam said with a grateful nod.

"It's about that time," Gustave agreed. "I daresay we'll insult poor Cogsworth if we do not appear soon." Though the Marquis' face was still a rather vivid shade of red, the idea of food seemed to calm him enough to say nothing more about the subject.

"Lumiere," Adam asked as they approached the dining room. "Will you find Belle and Lady Nicole and bring them here to eat?"

"At once, Master. I am sure Belle would welcome a break from entertaining Lady Nicole," Lumiere added in an undertone and Adam chuckled, certain that Nicole was trying even Belle's patience by now.

* * *

Belle's POV

Adam had taken the Comte and the Marquis on a tour of the castle, but Nicole found the idea of wandering the halls exhausting and boring. Instead, she insisted on spending the morning with Belle. Belle, who personally was very interested in seeing how the guests would react to Adam on the tour, dreaded spending time alone with Nicole, certain the girl had some sort of agenda.

"This is lovely," Nicole said as the men started on their way. "Just us girls."

"Perhaps I could show you the library," Belle suggested, wanting to be somewhere familiar to give her strength on what would be an undoubtedly trying day.

"Only if you wish to bore me," Nicole sneered with clear disgust.

"Don't you like to read?" Belle asked innocently, already knowing the answer.

"Don't tell me you _do_?"

"Of course. We need to keep our minds sharp if we are to keep up with what our fathers and future husbands do, don't you think? How else are we to do so but read and learn from books?" Belle said, playing to an aspect of reading that Nicole might possibly relate to.

"Ladies have quite enough to do by being a good hostess, planning and organizing parties, and giving a good impression to people important to our fathers and future husbands," Nicole countered. Belle could do nothing but stare at the girl in shock. This girl desired nothing more than to be a smiling doll who serves tea. For women to take such a passive role in life was what people like Gaston had wanted, something Belle could never accept. Planning a party was exhausting, certainly, and Belle knew well the difficulties that came with it, but there was so much more to life than that.

"Well, what would _you_ like to do, then?" Belle asked, knowing from her exhaustive experiences with Gaston that nothing she said would change this girl's mind.

"I find embroidery quite relaxing, though I'm sure you haven't much practice in such delicate work," Nicole replied with a sickly sweet smile and Belle pursed her lips. No, she _hadn't_ much experience with sitting and sewing mindlessly for hours only to have the resulting flower be put on a pillow that's going to be sat on anyway. But she was not about to admit that to this girl, so she merely summoned Estelle and asked her to fetch them embroidery materials.

"I—_really_?" Estelle asked in surprise.

"You were just given an order, I believe," Nicole said. "That usually requires an action of your part."

Belle looked an apology at Estelle, but she wasn't sure she noticed it. "Yes, my lady," Estelle said in an uncharacteristically demure way and hurried away.

"That was rude," Belle remarked angrily.

"She's only a servant," Nicole dismissed.

"She's a person who deserves respect," Belle retaliated, knowing it was useless to argue but unable to help herself.

"My poor dear, you're quite unaware of how it all works, aren't you?" Nicole said, patting Belle's hand with a look of pity on her face. "Come, we'll go to the parlor where we can talk and sew more comfortably." Belle waved her hand, motioning silently for Nicole to go first, not trusting herself to speak.

Hours later, Belle's mood had not improved. Nicole had taken it upon herself to teach Belle the 'fine art' of embroidery, during which Nicole insisted on also talking of the fashions of the court, and servants and nobles she disliked. Fortunately, Nicole talked far too much to allow Belle to add more than occasional nods or words of agreement, allowing her mind to wander to other, more interesting things. That is, until Nicole's endless prattle turned to Adam.

"It's lucky such a high born noble is so handsome. Most of them are rather unfortunate-looking or disgustingly old," was one of the phrases that caught Belle's attention between her daydreams.

"Yes, lucky," Belle muttered when Nicole paused, clearly expecting a response.

"But of course you realize you won't be burdened with all this courtly nonsense for long," Nicole added, barely glancing up from her sewing.

"Excuse me?" Belle said, lowering her barely touched embroidery to stare at Nicole in disbelief.

"Well, sooner or later Adam will realize that marrying me would be a much smarter choice for everyone involved. It's what will be expected, you understand." Belle fought to keep her patience but could not stop her hands from trembling with fury.

"You do realize Adam and I are engaged," she replied, pleased with how even she was able to keep her voice.

"But not married. Nothing is final until the vows."

Belle was saved from answering as Lumiere entered the room. "Excuse me. Prince Adam has sent me to tell you they are waiting in the dining room for you to join them for luncheon."

"Thank you, Lumiere," Belle sighed and did her best not to run from the room.

"Enjoying yourself?" Lumiere muttered to her as he escorted them to the dining room. She, Adam, and servants all had to be on their best show while the nobles were visiting the castle, the better to help them believe Adam's story. But Belle found many of the customs stuffy and pointless, such as having to be escorted nearly everywhere or being addressed as if she were a stranger to these kind people. Lumiere, at least, was good enough to put on a show for their guests while still managing to keep the more familiar, comfortable interaction with her without the others noticing.

"Does it show?" she replied and met Lumiere's sympathetic gaze.

"Do not worry, ma cherie. They will not be here forever." Belle smiled at Lumiere's words, but found little comfort in them.

As they entered the dining room, the men stood and Belle met Adam's eyes. It was clear by his expression that Adam was having just as difficult a day as she was. All she could do was give him a sympathetic look, however, and do her best to get through the meal. By some stroke of luck, the Marquis and Nicole both wished to rest after eating (which Belle found rather silly) but it allowed Adam and Belle the chance to breathe.

"I think _we're_ the ones who deserve a rest after that," the Comte said after the Marquis and his daughter left for their rooms. Belle was surprised to hear the Comte voice the exact sentiment she was thinking herself and a relieved giggle escaped her.

"You too?" Adam asked.

"If the Marquis is half the handful Nicole is, I feel very sorry for you both," Belle replied, knowing she shouldn't say such things but unable to help herself.

"I didn't have much time to warn you about them," Gustave said apologetically.

"I'm glad you're here at least, monsieur," Belle said and smiled at the Comte. "It's good to have a friendly face to countermand the others."

"Thank you, my lady. I'm glad I can be of some service to you."

"He tried to come to your defense earlier. Both he and my uncle did," Adam put in and Belle blushed with pleasure.

"Thank you, monsieur. . .Comte, I mean," she said awkwardly, aware that there was some sort of title she would be expected to call him but unsure of what it was.

"Henry suits me well enough, my lady," the Comte said, coming to her rescue.

"Only if you call me Belle," she returned happily.

"Not in front of the Marquis, though. He has a hard enough time with you already without finding you're calling your noble tenants by their given names," the Comte said with a kind smile. Belle was so glad there was at least one kind-hearted soul amongst the nobility she was about to be thrust into as Adam's wife.

"Now, if you'll allow me, I'd like to take a walk around your grounds. They are quite beautiful." Adam nodded and the Comte—Henry—made his way outside.

"What a kind man," Belle said as he disappeared behind the corner.

"I think I'll go work on some letters that need my attention," Gustave said. "You two should take this time and collect yourselves. I don't think the Marquis and Nicole will get any more agreeable this evening." He quickly disappeared around the same corner the Comte had vanished behind and Belle was at last left with Adam.

"The library?" he asked with what seemed like a hopeful smile.

"The library," she confirmed and together they went to escape for a few hours into a world where the Marquis and his daughter did not exist.


	35. Chapter 35

Beast's POV

Gustave was right: the Marquis and Nicole did _not_ become any more agreeable during their stay. Adam managed to keep Belle from spending any more time alone with Nicole, at least. Belle had told him of their conversation in the parlor and Nicole's intentions to marry Adam no matter what. Adam was disgusted by the girl's persistence in the matter and her rudeness towards Belle.

What he really wanted to do was throw Nicole out for saying such horrible things, but he knew that to do so would ruin all that he and Gustave had done for Adam's standing. The Marquis could easily deny that Adam was who he claimed to be; though this could be proven quite easily through his portraits and Gustave's testimonial, it would make things more complicated than they needed to be.

Belle understood, as she always did when Adam could find the words to explain himself, and in return Adam could only make sure she was not subjected to Nicole's wrath by herself. He was little match for her, though. Nicole was forward and cunning, all but throwing herself at him. Adam had no frame of reference for this kind of behavior and, though he had absolutely no intention of condoning Nicole's behavior, he didn't know how to go about stopping it. Many, many times Adam was tempted to give in to his barely suppressed temper if only to get the girl to stop hanging on his arm. But the results would be disastrous, and so Adam held out, waiting for the calm hours he could spend alone with Belle after the Marquis' daughter went to bed.

At last, the week was over, perhaps one of the longest weeks in Adam's memory, and he and Belle gladly stood outside the doors of the castle to bid their guests goodbye. The Marquis bowed to Adam and disappeared into his gilded carriage as quickly as possible. Clearly the Marquis had not enjoyed his stay, either. But his daughter lingered in front of Adam, smiling coyly at him. Adam did his best to keep his face in an expression of polite attention as she spoke of her next visit to the castle.

"I should so like to get to know you better, Your Highness," she finished with a curtsy and held her hand out. Adam took it and bent over it as was proper, but did not kiss it as Nicole so clearly expected.

"Perhaps, if we are lucky, the next time you come will be for my marriage to Lady Belle," he said, knowing it would irk Nicole to hear the words 'my,' 'marriage,' and 'Belle' in the same sentence.

"Of—of course, Your Highness," she said hesitantly and Adam saw the last glimmering, horrid hope in her eyes fade. Without another word, and with absolutely no acknowledgement to Belle, Nicole disappeared within the carriage where her father waited.

"You've done well, Your Highness," the Comte said, lingering at the last. "Don't think I buy your story of all this traveling for one moment, not that it matters. But I am glad you've returned to us."

"T-thank you," Adam stammered, wondering what the Comte could be thinking Adam was hiding from him.

"I hope to see you again soon, my dear," the Comte moved to say goodbye to Belle.

"Thank you, Henry. Please send my greetings to your wife. I'd like to meet her," Belle said, taking the Comte's outstretched hand warmly.

"I will, my lady. Thank you for your hospitality." With one last bow, the Comte climbed into the carriage.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Gustave said quickly. "I've just got to see that our work wasn't all for nothing and that the rest of the court accepts the Marquis and Comte's decision. You'll have to see them soon, of course, but I'm hoping to put that off until you and Belle are married to make things simpler for them. Perhaps when I return we can begin to plan your wedding?" Adam nodded eagerly and took Belle's hand, thrilling at the idea of becoming hers for the rest of his life. Gustave nodded and joined the nobles in the carriage. Minutes later, the carriage and its retinue were out of sight amongst the trees.

Adam sighed in relief and sunk down to sit on the steps, unable to stand any longer once the pressures of the week were finally gone. Belle joined him, leaning back on her arms and tilting her head to soak in the sun's warm rays.

Adam watched her in silence for a moment as the servants, assembled to bid the nobles an honorable farewell, filed back inside. His eyes followed the pale arch of her neck to the line of her jaw and up into the dark waves of her hair that shimmered in the sunlight. The stress of the week had kept him from spending the time he wished to with Belle, but he was infinitely grateful that it was she who stood by his side and not Nicole. He shivered as he thought how, had the Enchantress not intervened, Adam might have been a perfect match for that self-important girl.

"What is it?" Belle asked, opening her eyes and looking back at him.

"Just glad that I'm not marrying Nicole," he said. Belle smiled and moved so her hand was on top of his.

"Me too," she agreed and Adam noticed the sparkle of her ring as it caught the sun's rays.

"You were wonderful this week," he said, sitting up straighter and taking hold of her hand. "Thank you for everything you did. I know it wasn't easy."

"It wasn't for you, either," she reminded him. "Hopefully the next time we see the Marquis and Nicole, it will be in a crowd."

"Where we can easily avoid them," he agreed with a chuckle.

"I did like the Comte though," she continued. "I'd like to invite him and his wife up again. I think Papa would like him, too. He's got to come out of his workroom at some point, and I think they would be the perfect transition for him into this sort of life."

"You don't think the Marquis would be?" he teased. "You can invite whomever you like here, Belle. This is your home, you said so yourself." Belle smiled and turned her face back to the sun.

"It's so nice out now," she said, her voice slightly strained through her tilted throat.

"We could go on that picnic you wanted," Adam suggested, remembering their walk to the small, soggy garden weeks ago.

"I'd like that. Not today, though. Today we need to recuperate and remember that not everyone is as horrid as Nicole."

"She really did bother you, didn't she?" Adam felt horrible at exposing Belle to such people for his own reasons. It would have been one thing if she had met them at some sort of social gathering where Adam could not have prevented it, but the Marquis and Nicole came only because of Adam.

"I think it's because she reminded me so much of. . .of Gaston," she admitted, moving to hug her arms around her knees. "They're both so. . .so full of themselves it's astonishing. Neither of them think much of what women can do, either. Even Nicole thinks all we're good for is planning parties."

"That's stupid," he said bluntly. "I guess it's true that I relied on you to put together that celebration for the end of the enchantment, but that's only because I'm horrible at that sort of thing. You are much more intelligent than that; I hope you realize that. You could probably rule the lands better than I ever could." He spoke candidly and honestly, disgusted that Nicole should say such things and hoping Belle wouldn't get the wrong idea of what was might be 'expected' of her. "I don't expect anything from you," he said, repeating his thoughts aloud. "You know you can be as involved as you want to be in anything you wish, or not at all."

"I know. It just took me by surprise hearing her say that. I expected it from primeval men like Gaston, but not from a girl who has the opportunity to do so much."

"She's just a child, maybe she'll come to her senses," Adam reasoned, though he seriously doubted it.

"We should go put the servants at ease," she said, standing up and brushing off her dress. "I know at least Estelle was quite upset by Nicole and her lady's maid."

"Hang on," he said, standing up himself and catching hold of Belle's hand as she began to walk away. He drew her gently towards him and wrapped his arms around her, so close he could hear her breathing. "I love you," he said softly, looking into the familiar dark pools of her eyes, still filled with the memories of the past week and of a horrible, misogynistic man who still haunted her dreams.

Belle smiled and Adam watched the last of the frustration and sadness leave Belle's eyes. She raised her face to his and he leaned down to kiss her, feeling their lips meet in a familiar moment of joy.

"I love you, too," she said as they parted, but Adam was not ready to let her lips free so soon.

* * *

Belle's POV

After she and Adam had gone to thank the servants and soothe their wounded pride, especially those of Cogsworth and Lumiere, Belle decided she should go down to see her father. He had made good on his determined statement to disappear while the nobles were visiting, so Belle had barely seen him at all that week. But Belle entered the workroom only to find that her father was not there.

"That's funny," she said aloud to herself, her voice echoing in the massive, silent room. She could almost always find her father down in his workroom tinkering on his latest invention or even something in the castle that was in need of repair. Curious at where he could've gone, Belle left the workroom and went in search of him.

She was a bit at a loss at where to look for him; he never ventured very far between his room and the workroom, but now he was in neither of those two places. None of the servants she met on her search seemed to know where he was, either.

"I do recall Mrs. Potts mentioning bringing some lunch to your father," Cogsworth said when Belle came across him. "That could have been yesterday, though. Goodness this week has completely gotten away from me!"

"Maybe you should try to relax," Belle suggested, unable to keep from noticing how high strung he seemed. More than usual, that is. Belle knew that Cogsworth hardly breathed without finding something to worry over, or quarreling with Lumiere, but with their recent guests Cogsworth had truly begun to concern Belle.

"No time, no time. What with the wedding and Adam's reinstatement as Prince, there's so much to do!"

"Well the wedding won't be for a while yet, so please promise me you'll take some time to relax. I insist," she said, trying to make her words hold weight with Cogsworth. He would worry himself to death over all the work he gave himself; if only he trusted the others to help him more.

"When there is time, mademoiselle," he said dismissively.

"Tomorrow," she retaliated. "I'll arrange it with Adam and see that Lumiere and Mrs. Potts know what to expect. Go into town or walk along the grounds, anything that _you_ would like to do that does not concern anything about the castle."

"I—I haven't. . .I don't know. . ."

"Well, then you best figure that out before tomorrow," she said with a smile and left Cogsworth utterly flabbergasted. Belle doubted very much that Cogsworth had ever had a day off in his life, but it was about time he did.

But she was still no closer to finding her father.

She had almost given up after almost an hour of searching when she passed the door to one of the smaller sitting rooms and heard her father's laugh behind it. Belle paused, not wanting to disturb whoever it was her father was talking to, but she had come such a long way to find him. And, if she was honest with herself, she was curious as to who was in there with him. She knocked and opened the door to have her suspicions confirmed: Mrs. Potts was sitting across from her father, wiping her eyes as she fought to control her laughter.

"Belle!" he father exclaimed when he noticed her.

"Hello," she greeted, trying to suppress a smile of delight at seeing the two of them together. "You two seem to be having fun. I don't want to interrupt, I only was looking for you, Papa."

"Maggie was just telling me about the little Marquess," her father said as Belle drew up a chair.

"Maggie?"

"It's my name, dear," Mrs. Potts pointed our with a small smile. "Though heaven knows no one uses it."

"Why not? It's a lovely name," Belle recovered quickly. Oddly enough, it had never occurred to Belle that Mrs. Potts might have ever been called by anything else, except by Chip of course, who called her 'Mamma.'

"No one ever calls the housekeeper by her first name. I haven't been called Maggie here since my husband died. I almost forgot what it was." Belle's father chuckled and Belle grinned. She was glad that Mrs. Potts and Papa had grown into a first-name relationship, but Belle could not help feeling a little odd at calling the motherly woman anything but 'Mrs. Potts.'

"How did you get along with the prissy little thing?" Papa asked, clearly set on finding out everything he could about the visiting nobles.

"Oh, Nicole you mean? I, for one, am not exactly looking forward to seeing her again," Belle said, trying to keep the distain from her voice but not quite able to.

"Was she really that bad?" her father asked, clearly concerned for his daughter. "You can usually get along with almost anyone."

"She was awful, Papa. If you could imagine anyone as awful as Gaston, all his vanity and arrogance wrapped up into the body of a sixteen year old girl, _that_ is Nicole. And she's so determined to marry Adam, so sure that I won't want to stay with him once I understand what's in store for me. Well, I _know_ what difficulties I'll face, but I'll face them together with Adam," she finished determinedly, growing angry at the memory of Nicole's horrible words.

"Well there's no hope for that silly girl," Mrs. Potts said with a nod of certainty.

"Not from what I've seen. That boy would do anything for you," her father put in and Belle felt herself blush.

"Goodness, I should get back to work," Mrs. Potts said suddenly, rising from her chair reluctantly.

"Stay, won't you?' Belle's father asked. "The castle won't fall without you."

"It might," Belle laughed. "But you should stay anyway. I'll see that everything runs smoothly, don't worry."

"But, Belle I just can't. . ."Mrs. Potts started but Belle interrupted her.

"Papa could use the company, I think. You're always cooped up in that workroom, you know," she added to her father. "I'd be impressed if you could keep him out for a while longer."

"Maggie is perfectly capable of deciding what she wants to do, Belle," her father scolded.

"Actually, I'd love the excuse to sit for awhile," Mrs. Potts said. "There'll be so much to do in a few weeks. I'd like to enjoy the calm before the storm."

"Oh, that reminds me, I'm giving Cogsworth the day off tomorrow. When I saw him a few minutes ago he didn't look well."

"I'm afraid you'll have a hard time getting him to take it," Mrs. Potts put in. "But I'll tell Lumiere about it and between the two of us we'll get him to relax."

"I'd appreciate that, thank you. It seems odd having to force someone into taking a day to himself, but he really does need it. I'll leave you two alone and I'll make sure everything's going as it should downstairs," she said , trying to hid her pleasure at how well her father and Mrs. Potts were getting along. She couldn't remember seeing her father so happy since her mother was alive, and Belle was glad that it was someone as kind and good as Mrs. Potts who filled that void for him.

Belle made her way down to the kitchen as she promised to make sure everything was running smoothly. The servants were used to her visits by now, no longer protesting that Belle should wash dishes with them, so only a few glanced up as Belle entered the swinging doors. Belle loved the bustle of the kitchen, the cook and her kitchen maids bouncing around, servants gathering and dispersing through other doors that led to other halls on their way to do their chores. This was the heart of the castle, the place where the castle came to life.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle," Lumiere greeted her as he walked through another doorway to Belle's left. "What can I do for you?"

"I was just seeing if there's anything I could do to help. Mrs. Potts is with Papa and I didn't want anything to disturb them."

"Oh la la! It is good to see Mrs. Potts enjoying life again!"

"Definitely," Belle agreed wholeheartedly. "Papa's been so lonely, I'm glad they've found each other."

"Mais oui, ma cherie. I believe the only thing that has yet to be done is prepare the Master's meal, since you have come all the way down here to ask."

"Just the Master's?" Belle prodded, certain the way Lumiere singled out Adam he had something up his sleeve.

"Well, I had thought to send up a tray to your father, now that I know he is with our Mrs. Potts."

"You are a bit devious, you know," Belle said merrily.

"I just enjoy love, ma cherie," Lumiere replied.

"And it is one of your greatest qualities," she finished with a warm smile. "I'll take that tray up to Adam, since I'm sure that's what you had planned when you saw me here."

"But of course, mademoiselle!" And so, minutes later, two trays were set, one to go up to Mrs. Potts and her father, the other for Belle to bring up for herself and Adam.

"If there's anything pressing to be done and Mrs. Potts has not grown tired of Papa, come see me first," Belle instructed just before she left.

"Of course," Lumiere agreed and Belle made her way up to the West Wing where Adam was dutifully going over some plans Gustave had left for him.

Belle was so grateful to Gustave for helping Adam through the process of reclaiming his rightful place at Prince. It was brave of Adam to wish to rejoin the world after everything that had happened to him, but Belle could never have helped him with such a task alone. He had come so far though, and Belle could not be prouder of him. She smiled to herself as she pictured the uncertain Beast struggling to read _Romeo and Juliet_ for her, walking with her through the grounds, learning how to dance again with her. He had changed so much since her first night in the castle, and changed even more so since the enchantment broke, becoming not just human, but a gentleman who could converse with nobles. But somehow, through all of that, he remained only her Adam, her Beast.

The doors of the West Wing stood before her, so she balanced the tray in one hand to knock on the door. The door opened moments later to reveal Adam.

"Hungry?" she asked, holding up the tray she held.

"Starving," he replied with a wide smile and opened the door wider to let her in, putting his arm comfortably around her waist as she passed him.


	36. Chapter 36

Adam entered the stables and was immediately met with the smell of hay and manure. It filled his nose and stopped him in his tracks as he the vivid memory of his first visit to the stables flooded his mind.

He was seven years old and had been promised his first horse. He had been begging for one for over a year, insisting that he was old enough to ride as his father did. His mother woke him the morning of his seventh birthday, saying that there was a surprise for him in the stables. Knowing immediately what it would be, he leapt from his bed and danced about as his mother and a servant tried to get him dressed, too eager to hold still.

He never went in the stables; it was a place for servants and animals, not for princes, but today was different. His mother led him by the hand to the doors of the stables where his father waited, tall and straight in his usual somber, dark suit of clothes. As they approached, his father shifted his gaze from somewhere in the horizon to his son. Adam could distinctly remember often being frightened by those dark eyes that so frequently held anger in them. But that day his father's gaze was almost warm.

"Close your eyes," he heard his mother say as they approached the doors to the stables. Adam did as he was told, though he peeked once as he heard the doors creak open. "All right, darling. Open them!"

Adam opened his eyes, ready to see his massive war charger waiting for him, but instead there was only a small black pony.

"A—a pony?" he asked, his little heart sinking.

"A horse you can manage who will grow with you," his father corrected. "It is a great thing to grow up with your horse. You two will form a bond unlike any other, if you take care of him properly as a Prince should. I had my own horse since he was a foal."

Adam recalled his father's noble chestnut stallion and a grin spread across his face. His very own horse! He ran up to the foal, eager to pet it, but it shied away from him.

"Gentle, Adam," his mother cautioned. "You must earn his trust first."

"How?" he whined, impatient to ride his new horse.

"By spending time with him," his father replied, gently pushed Adam forward a few steps, and shut the stable doors behind him, leaving Adam alone with his new horse.

Adam loved that horse; after a full day spent in the stables grooming and getting to know his horse, whom he named Midnight for his coat, he was rarely apart from the animal. It became the dearest companion for a boy with no other friends, someone to talk to when his father wouldn't listen and to escape with for a few hours when the castle became too stifling to bear any longer. When his mother and sister died a year later, it was into Midnight's mane where he cried the tears he couldn't let his father see.

But when the awful night came when Adam was turned into a Beast, Midnight was no solace. The young horse was terrified of the animal that invaded his stall seeking nothing more than the friend a lonely boy once knew. The newly created Beast realized at that moment that he was no longer Adam, now that his dearest companion no longer recognized him. The Beast chased out all the horses that night, giving them freedom from the monster that now ruled the castle. He watched until Midnight's flanks disappeared into the trees beyond the castle's grounds and then the Beast was truly alone.

Adam sat upon a convenient bucket that had been turned upside down, overwhelmed by the memories that tortured his mind. His heart ached painfully as he saw again in his mind's eye his beloved horse disappearing forever into the trees.

"Adam?" Belle's voice drew his attention back to the present. Adam looked towards the sound of her voice and his heart leapt at the sight of the beautiful woman who truly loved him, who had somehow managed to conquer his lonely and broken heart. He stood and went to her eagerly, lifting her up by the waist and twirling her once in a circle, rewarded by hearing her laugh.

"Well you're in a good mood," she commented merrily as he put her down again.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, setting aside the comment of his mood which had been bleak just moments ago, focusing instead on the happiness of his present world he never thought would be possible.

"Mhm. Mrs. Potts packed us a lunch for the ride. But are you sure it's all right we're away from the castle the same time Cogsworth is gone?"

"I'm sure. My uncle is still away, there's no sign of anything at all from the court, and everything has been going fine in the castle. Besides, you've been wanting to ride, haven't you?"

Belle needed no further prodding, it seemed. She grinned at him excitedly and fairly bounded to her horse waiting in a stable a few feet down from where they stood. Adam grinned at her enthusiasm and followed her, shooing the stable hands away as they stepped forward to help. He thought to offer his help saddling the great horse himself, but before he could, Belle took up the saddle herself in her slender arms and heaved it over the great horse's back in a clearly well practiced manner. Amazed by this, Adam could only chuckle and move on to the horse in the stall to the right. This horse was one of those who had pulled the wagons laden with the cottage's belongings; it was hardly the elegant charger Midnight had been, but he seemed a good horse and up to Philippe's long stride.

"Ready?" Belle asked, standing outside the stall with Philippe's reigns in her hand.

"Um. . ." He trailed off as he realized Belle had bridled and saddled Philippe in the time it took him to open the stall door. "Just another minute," he said and did his best to hurry. It had been a long time since he had saddled a horse, though, and took him nearly twice as long to do as it had for Belle. "All right, let's go," he said finally, embarrassed that it had taken him as long as it had to simply saddle a horse.

"Hang on," Belle said and joined him in the stall. She adjusted the saddle a bit, tightening the girth of the saddle quickly. "There," she said simply and returned to her own horse.

"Thanks," he said, his embarrassment heightening though he knew she had not done so on purpose. "This should be interesting. I haven't ridden since before I was. . . well, since before," he finished lamely and led the horse out of its stall and outside. Belle drew level with him and caught his eye. She smiled at him understandingly, as she always did when he felt so uncertain.

"You'll remember soon enough. We'll just take it slow at first," she said and led Philippe passed him. Adam watched her go for a moment, adoring how she was so certain of him when he could not find confidence in himself. She mounted her horse, gliding upwards gracefully in a wave of green skirts. Adam grinned, realizing that Belle sat astride her horse, not sidesaddle as other ladies would.

"What?" Belle asked when she caught his gaze.

"Nothing," he said quickly, dropping his eyes but not his smile, and prepared himself to mount his own horse. He jumped once, twice, and managed to scramble up and onto the saddle. When he was safely situated, he took hold of the reigns and straightened up, feeling his shaky confidence growing as his body recalled that he had done this before. Cautiously, he moved his mount forward, feeling the horse shift underneath him. Smiling, he provoked the horse into a trot, circling around Belle who laughed and turned in her saddle to watch him prance about foolishly.

"I see you remember better than you thought," she said between giggles. Rather than answering her directly, Adam grinned mischievously at Belle and pushed his horse into a gallop. As he hoped, he heard Philippe's hooves behind him as Belle sent her horse into a gallop to chase him. She drew level with him and then, with a coy smile at him, she flew passed him. Adam paused in surprise but quickly pushed his horse in attempts to catch up with her. But Belle was clearly the better rider and easily outstripped him. It was only when Belle stopped at the edge of the great fields they rode across that Adam was able to catch up.

"I win," she declared merrily as he drew closer to her, breathless from the ride.

"You're good," he consented, gasping a bit himself.

"And you're better than you thought. Would you like to try again?" she said with a grin, clearly enjoying the sport. Adam turned his horse away from the trees that lined the grounds, ready for another race. But he turned his horse too quickly and the horse protested by rearing. Adam wasn't prepared for this and was too far out of practice to stay in the saddle. His gripped slipped and he was sent crashing to the ground, landing hard flat on his back. The impact drove the breath from his lungs and he lay stunned for a moment.

"Adam!" he heard Belle cry and she slid from her saddle to kneel beside him. By the time she reached him though, Adam was able to get air back into his lungs and assess that he was not hurt. He looked up at Belle's concerned, beautiful face and couldn't help but pull her towards him, supporting her in one arm while he turned over so she was lying in the grass and he could lean over her instead. He smiled at her gasp of surprise and leaned down to kiss her.

"You really have changed," she said when their lips parted. "The Beast, and even the Adam I knew a few weeks ago, would never have done anything like that."

"I—I'm sorry, did I—" he started, suddenly afraid he had done something wrong.

"No," she interrupted. "You're learning who you are, and you're getting more confident. I'm certainly not complaining."

"Good," he chuckled and kissed her again. He hadn't realized he had been changing even since the enchantment was broken; it was just so comfortable to be with Belle, his uncertainty was simply unnecessary while he was around her and it seemed to have melt away without his notice.

"Would you like to stop and eat here?" she asked, still trapped underneath him.

"Already?"

"It's past noon, Adam. We took a while getting the horses ready, and riding here took longer than you think. Now let me up so we can get set up," she directed, pushing lightly on his chest. Adam complied, helping Belle to her feet. She went to go to her saddlebags, but Adam stopped her, wanting to do something for her.

So he took out the blanket he found inside and spread it on the ground, smoothing it out as Belle might like. He then took out the packets of food and arranged them on the blanket.

"Here, if we put rocks in the corners of the blanket, it won't blow away in the wind," Belle suggested, picking up a stone and placing in the corner nearest her.

"Good idea," he agreed, finding three more stones to hold the blanket in place and rejoining Belle on the blanket. They left the horses to graze nearby, both too well mannered to wander far. For several minutes they were both occupied with dividing the food and Adam figuring out how to eat it.

"You've never eaten outside like this before, have you?" Belle asked and Adam got the impression she was laughing at his attempts to feed himself without a flat surface to balance on.

"No," he grunted, inexplicably embarrassed by this. To his surprise, Belle giggled. "What's so funny?" he asked, trying to be insulted but knowing she meant no harm.

"Nothing. It's just. . .every once in a while, no matter how much you've changed, a little bit of the Beast comes out in you."

"I'm sorry. I've tried to. . ." he began, horrified that the Beast should still make such evident appearances.

"You really don't understand, do you?" she interrupted him, putting his hand on his and looking at him in concern. "It was while you were the Beast that I fell in love with you. I can't help if I see that part of you every once in a while." Belle had told him something similar the day he had proposed to her, only eight days ago, but he still had a hard time believing such a thing.

"Ham?" he said, holding out the packet of cold ham he held. Belle sighed and gave him an expressive look as if to say she knew he was avoiding the subject, but took the food just the same.

Adam managed to eat a proper meal despite his struggle to balance it in his lap. They packed up the remaining food and lounged idly, both unwilling to start back to the castle.

"I wonder how Cogsworth's day is going," Belle said, leaning back on her hands, feet outstretched, the picture of content.

"That's right, you sent him off, didn't you," Adam recalled. "I doubt he's managed to make it far. I don't think he'd know what to do with himself if he's not bossing someone around."

"Well, I've asked Mrs. Potts and Lumiere to help to keep him out of his own way. I just hope he manages to relax. He truly didn't look well." Adam could hear her concern in her voice.

"He'll be fine, don't worry. He enjoys it, I think, having too much to do. You remember when you first came here, how everyone was tripping over themselves trying to remember what they used to do with guests? Cogsworth never lost that; he always knew and tried to enforce the proper way to do things, even when there weren't things to be done." Adam unwillingly recalled those first few weeks when everyone struggled to adjust to their new forms, many without arms or legs. No matter how they grumbled or protested, Adam knew they were all grateful to Cogsworth for making them keep to their routines as best they could. They needed that normalcy in a world that had been turned upside-down. Adam was certainly no help to them, glowering in the West Wing, destroying everything he saw that reminded him of the life he had lost.

Adam drew himself out of his somber thoughts as he caught Belle's eye. He smiled, reminded himself that it was all just a horrible memory, and extended an arm to draw Belle close to him. She shifted towards him willingly and drew him irresistibly down until he was lying comfortably on the blanket, Belle's head on his chest. Adam's heart fluttered excitedly at having Belle so close. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and her hand went up to grasp at a fold in his shirt. They lay there together in silence for awhile, watching the clouds pass by above them.

"You know," Adam said after a few minutes. "We should start planning our wedding." Belle turned so she faced him, but remained lounged against his chest. Her smile at his words made his heart stop for a moment, its brilliance and sheer joy taking him by surprise. "That is, if you want," he added with a grin.

"More than anything," she said eagerly. "But I don't know where to start."

"Well, you'll want Nicole as part of your bridal party, I'm sure," he teased and laughed as Belle's smile dropped into a rare grimace.

"I suppose we'll have to invite her and her father, though," she said begrudgingly.

"I'm sure there's some sort of expectation about that my uncle hasn't told me about yet," he agreed. "But we can also invite Henry and his wife if she's feeling better. I'd like to keep our wedding small, but I think that's too much to ask for."

"Probably," she agreed, though she didn't seem too happy about it either.

"Our honeymoon will be just the two of us, though," he assured her.

"A—a honeymoon? Really?"

"I know it's not very common, at least that's what my uncle told me, but my parents did it and I think it would be a good excuse for me to see all those places I've told everyone I've been to. You wouldn't mind traveling around for a month or two, would you?" he asked, though he could guess at the answer. Belle had often talked of the places she read about in her books and, though of course many of them were fictional, places like Spain and Naples, and Scotland were easily visited.

"Really?" she said again, sitting up and smiling widely. "Where can we go?"

"Anywhere you'd like," he said, sitting up as well, smiling at her clear excitement. "Anywhere you've dreamed of going."

At these words, Belle dove into an animated account of every place she had wanted to go. Adam grinned and leaned back on his hands, happy to listen to her go on about the castles of England, the wide open fields of Scotland, and the mountains of Austria. His heart swelled with joy knowing he could give her this, that he was able to bring her to the places she had only visited in her dreams.

Belle was interrupted, though, when Philippe wandered over and gave her shoulder a gentle nudge with his nose, clearly impatient to be moving again. She giggled and pet his nose for a moment. "All right, Philippe, we'll go," she said to her horse. "We should get back before they start to worry," Belle said, this time to Adam. Though Adam wanted nothing more than to lie in the sun with Belle and listen to her talk of their adventures to come, he stood to pack up their things.

"You know, we still haven't decided anything about the wedding," Adam realized as he mounted his horse, much more easily than last time.

"We'll have plenty of time to talk about it," she replied. "I'm sure Gustave will have a few things to say about what we should and shouldn't do. Perhaps we should wait until he gets back."

"Don't let him bully you into things you don't want," he cautioned as they began their slow journey back to the castle, remembering how Gustave had monopolized Adam's time when he first arrived. "No matter what, it's what you want that matters."

"What _we_ want, she corrected, reaching across the space between their two horses to take his hand. "It's your wedding too, remember."

Adam gently squeezed Belle's hand, his heart soaring as he imagined the day they would become husband and wife.

* * *

_All right, the picnic scene did turn into a bit of an "I can show you the world" moment but still, who wouldn't want to travel Europe with a prince?! And I did some research. . .honeymoons existed since the mid 1500's (well, since the Vikings, really, but that's a whole different thing altogether) but weren't popular until somewhere around the 1800's. Weird, right? If someone finds something different though, let me know!_

_Also, I'm making plans to do the first half (and before) of the movie, but I promise, promise, promise I'll finish this one first! I've kept you all waiting long enough for this wedding before starting something else, don't you think?_

_(p.s. thanks DisneyFan101 for the pony/foal thing. I kept Adam saying 'pony' because he was only seven, but I think I got the rest!)_


	37. Chapter 37

Belle's POV

"Good morning, Cogsworth!" Belle greeted as she walked down the hall towards breakfast. She had been hoping to find out how Cogsworth's rare day off went and decided this would be the perfect opportunity.

"Good morning, mademoiselle," he returned the greeting with a wide smile. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," she agreed, her own smile growing at the sight of Cogsworth actually looking _happy_. "Did you enjoy your day yesterday?" she couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, it was wonderful, wonderful my dear. I do appreciate your, uh _suggestion_ for me to take some time." Belle giggled at Cogsworth's brushing over the fact that she practically forced him to take a day for himself.

"I'm glad to hear it. Perhaps you won't be so stubborn to take your next day. But I am a bit curious. Can I ask what you ended up doing?"

"Well, at first I was at a complete loss at what to do. Mrs. Potts made sure I stayed out of the kitchens, and Lumiere threw me out of nearly every room he found me in. Even the Master kept me from doing any work that morning before he left to go riding with you."

"Well, I had a feeling you would be a bit difficult, so I told the others to keep an eye out for you," she confessed with a guilty smile.

"Ah, well then I must say thank you, mademoiselle," Cogsworth said. "Without that push I would never have taken the day."

"I thought that might be the case," Belle laughed. "So what did you do?"

"Surely you're not interested in what I did," he dismissed.

"But I _am_," she insisted. "Unless you don't want to tell me. That's another thing altogether."

"Not at all. When I was fairly thrown out thanks to you," he started and Belle caught the humor in his voice. "I went for a walk, just around the grounds at first, then down the road."

"Not into the forest?" Belle asked, her mind jumping back to the last time she was alone in the forest when she was attacked by the pack of wolves. Of course, that had been during the winter when food was scarce for the wolves, but it was still dangerous to go there alone.

"No, goodness me! I didn't go that far. But I did find quite a lovely stream practically teeming with fish. So I simply stopped and fished for a while."

"Without a pole or line?" Belle asked. She might not have ever gone fishing, but she did know there was some equipment involved in the process.

"Oh, some of the children from the castle were there by the stream and they offered me what I needed. They were very friendly; they even gave me some of their bait. Rowdy young things," he said and Belle could see by his smile that Cogsworth had enjoyed their antics.

"Sounds like you actually had some fun," she said.

"Yes, but I'm rather looking forward to a quiet retirement by the sea. Just watching those children run about, fighting with each other was enough to exhaust me."

"Oh yes, you seem quite put out by it," she teased. "I won't make you do such a thing again."

"You may feel free to do so at any time, my dear," Cogsworth said. "You were quite right; truthfully I think it did me a world of good to get out for the day."

"I'm glad to hear it," Belle replied. "Maybe now you'll be able to relax a bit more often."

"Perhaps, but I'm also glad to be getting back to work. Lumiere isn't anywhere near being up for the task," Cogsworth said haughtily.

Belle restrained a giggle and nodded in agreement. "I can't see anyone ever being able to do what you're able to," she said truthfully. "I know we're going to rely on you to help plan the wedding especially."

"It will be my pleasure, mademoiselle," Cogsworth said and Belle could not help but notice his grin, though she wasn't quite sure whether his joy was for the sake of her and Adam, or for the planning and work the event would require. "Best run along to breakfast now. I'm sure the Master and your father are wondering what's become of you." Belle nodded and went on her way, glad that Cogsworth seemed much better for his day of relaxation.

"There you are!" her father exclaimed as she entered the small dining room. "We thought perhaps you forgot about us."

"I met Cogsworth in the hall," she explained as she took her place at the table opposite Adam. "He seemed to have enjoyed himself yesterday."

"Good," Adam said, nodding in approval. "I'm still surprised he took the day though."

"Belle, I was just asking Adam when you two plan on making good on that proposal of his," her father said, changing the subject as he speared a sausage with his fork. "As I understand it, these sorts of things take time to prepare."

"Well, Adam and I started talking about it yesterday. . ." Belle began.

"Gustave is supposed to return today. We'll be able to figure out what we _have_ to do for the wedding, so then we'll be able to plan what we _want_ to do after we know that," Adam said.

"What you _have_ to do?" her father asked.

"I know there's going to be certain people we have to invite, things that will be expected of a prince's wedding," Adam explained, though he didn't look as though he relished the idea. "But once we get that out of the way, we'll have the space to do as we like." He looked up at Belle and smiled warmly at her. Belle returned the gesture, her heart fluttering with the image of soon being able to stand beside Adam as his wife.

"Well, I won't say I understand it, but Maggie and I, and the rest here, are anxious to see you two married," her father said and took one last large bite of toast. "I'll be in my workroom if you need me. I'm nearly done with the machine, Adam, if you'd like to come down this afternoon and help me test it out."

"Of course," Adam agreed and Belle's father left. "Maggie?" Adam asked Belle as soon as her father was out of sight.

"It seems that Mrs. Potts and Papa are growing quite close," she explained, smiling at Adam's flabbergasted expression that exactly mirrored her own feelings when she discovered this development herself.

"Perhaps it should be a double wedding," Adam laughed.

"Who else is getting married?" Gustave asked as he strode through the door, Belle's father following behind him. Belle found this curious; there was little that could keep Papa from his workroom.

"Gustave!" Belle exclaimed, ignoring the curiosity for the moment, and stood to embrace him. "Did you get back just now?"

"I did," he confirmed, smiling as he detangled Belle's arms from around his shoulders. "And I have an announcement: The stuffy old advisors will be here in three days, though I tried to have them wait till after their Prince married his lady, but they insisted."

"Oh dear," Belle said, wondering what sort of test would come with these apparently disagreeable men.

"Oh dear is right," he said unhappily. "I'm afraid you must be on your best behavior if they are to accept you, Belle. I'm sorry to have to put you through this. I had hoped to present you as Adam's wife when they arrived, securing your place, but weddings take time and the advisors are impatient."

"They couldn't help but love her," Papa insisted, though it was clear his thoughts were far away in his workroom. Obviously this news was not as interested as he thought it might be.

"I know she'll win their hearts," Adam said, coming to stand beside her. She was grateful for his words and his support, but she couldn't keep her heart from beating faster in terror.

"Oh, which reminds me," Gustave said, putting a hand into his jacket and drawing out a letter. "Lady Nicole asked me to give this to you, Adam." Belle and Adam exchanged glances as Adam took the letter and opened it. For a few moments, Belle watched Adam's eyes dart across the page as he read the letter, his face impassive.

_What is this girl up to now?_ she thought desperately as Adam read. She knew nothing this girl could say would sway Adam, but she was already weary of this girl's interference.

At last, Adam's hand dropped and Belle noticed his expression had lightening into one of amusement.

"She's persistent, I'll give her that," Adam said with a smirk. "If I'm reading this the way she meant, which is hard enough for me to do, she's just flirting with me again. Saying how _wonderful_ her time here was and how she hopes she sees me again soon." Belle snorted in disgust and Adam glanced at her, his eyes dancing with an amusement she wasn't sure she appreciated. "She mentions you, Belle," Adam added and held the letter up again to read from it. "'I hope with all my heart that Belle continues with her embroidery. Though she is a novice, I feel sure that with time she will be equal to any seamstress in the land.'"

"Perhaps you should _not_ have read that aloud," Belle heard her father say. Belle herself could say nothing; by suggesting that Belle could become a seamstress, Nicole was truly saying that she was unsuited for the life of a princess, for a life with Adam.

"Belle?" she heard Adam say gently, though she could not raise her eyes to meet his; she was far too angry to do anything but stare blindly at the wall opposite her and wonder bitterly what it would take to get this girl to stop trying to destroy her life. "Belle, I'm sorry. I thought you would find it funny. It's ridiculous of her to even write to me; you know she has no hope. Belle?" Adam touched her arm and Belle flinched, coming out of her thoughts and registering finally what Adam had said.

"I know," she started. "I'm fine. Are you going to write back to her?"

"I wouldn't even know what to write. 'Go soak your head' comes to mind, but I don't think that's the best thing to say," he replied, giving the letter back to Gustave and wrapping his arm around her shoulders. Belle leaned in to his embrace, feeling the familiar warmth of his body, able to find comfort in his nearness.

"Probably not," Gustave agreed. "You should reply, though; a letter from the daughter of a Marquis should not go unanswered, but we can work on it later. For now. . ."

"For now, we should finish our breakfast. Gustave, you must be starving after your journey," Belle interrupted, tired already of talk of princes and duties. "We can discuss whatever it is you need to say after we eat." To emphasize her point, Belle deliberately returned to her seat. Her father caught her eye and grinned at her; apparently he approved of what she had just said. Gustave, whom Belle had worried she might anger by stopping him, merely chuckled and sat opposite the seat her father left empty to serve himself a slice of toast and a sausage link.

"I'll be in the workroom," her father said and made a rather hasty exit, clearly eager to leave before he was caught up in any more talk of politics, and Belle couldn't help but envy him.

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam felt horrible about reading Nicole's letter to Belle. He truly thought she would laugh, knowing how ridiculous Nicole was, but he was sorely wrong. Belle's anger was something he rarely encountered, and Adam couldn't help but be glad that he was not on the wrong end of it this time. Fortunately, Belle was not one to brood and he was able to cheer her up by convincing Gustave to start discussing their wedding.

"You'll have to go through the nonsense of becoming Prince again first," Gustave said, continuing their earlier conversation in the study as he accepted a cup of tea from Mrs. Potts. "I still technically hold the title, and the advisors and lords under your rule will want things settled as soon as possible before you start marrying."

"But why?" Adam protested. Surely it didn't matter what order things got done, and he'd much rather present Belle to his court as his wife. Adam's heart leapt at the very word _wife_ and he couldn't help but smile at the implication of togetherness the word implied.

"Because they want stability," Gustave answered. "No one has disrupted the line from father to son till now, and it has upset these people who rely on tradition. It would be wise to give that to them if they are to accept you."  
"I agree," Belle piped in. "I'd rather not put off the wedding any longer, but perhaps we can manage to get this in and still have the wedding soon."

"Though I personally would've liked to crown both of you side by side," Gustave put in, "I'll be glad when we can put these foolish politics behind us and focus on your wedding." At these words, Gustave directed his attention to Belle and Adam noticed the delighted smiles on both their faces that mirrored his own excitement.

* * *

Gustave and Adam used the rest of that day to prepare for the arrival of the advisors, running over some of the finer laws and what these men expected of Adam. Adam wasn't very keen on trying to present himself as these men expected him to be, and was even less thrilled to hear they disapproved of his courtship with 'a woman of low birth' as they had apparently put it. But their approval of Adam was the final key to allow Adam into his rightful place. Then, according to Gustave, Adam only had to gather the lesser lords of his lands, hear a few words from one of the King's archbishops who would come down for such an occasion, and say a few words himself before the change of title would be final.

Adam did his best to pay attention to Gustave; though he was eager to help his uncle any way he could in this matter, his heart was only truly in the wedding plans Belle was currently beginning with Mrs. Potts and Cogsworth. The small ceremony to regain his title was unlike anything anyone had encountered before; the hereditary line had never been broken before, and certainly never given back to another after someone already claimed it as his uncle was forced to. But Adam found the idea of parading himself around in front of everyone foolish and pointless. At least amongst some of the foolishness of the wedding, there was a real purpose to it: two hearts forever being joined as one.

* * *

"Welcome," Adam said formally, bowing respectfully to the four rather cross-looking men that descended from the carriage three days later. Gustave had warned him that these men were crotchety and unlikely to show any signs of approving of Adam, so when the men merely bowed and started inside without a word among them, Adam was only mildly surprised.

"Here we go," he muttered to Belle and took her hand to give him strength. He felt her fingers gently squeeze his own and he smiled, comforted as always by her presence.

"Thank you for coming all the way here," Adam said to the men as Cogsworth opened the door to the first floor parlor for them. "I hope the trip was nice." Adam struggled to speak formally as he had when the Marquis, his daughter, and the Comte had visited and, though Belle had said his speech had much improved, it was still a struggle for him to find the right words.

"Well enough," one of them grunted. Adam examined the speaker: a tall, angular man with a hard-looking face, weathered and wrinkled from what Adam could only assume was from a disagreeable life.

"Can I offer you some refreshment?" Gustave asked as they sat.

"No," the second man said, a shorter but just as harsh looking man as the first. "We must get to the bottom of this nonsense before anything else. You are truly the son of the late Prince Edmund and nephew to the current Prince Gustave?"

"Yes, I am," Adam confirmed simply.

"Hmm," the second man looked at Adam critically. "Well you certainly _look_ as his son ought. But something about you is different."

"I hope so, monsieur," Adam said, unable to stop himself. He felt the entire room pause, the tension suddenly pressing on him.

"I hope so, too," the third visitor said with a grunt, though Adam thought he heard a kind edge to his words. He seemed a bit less harsh than the others, his face a bit rounder, or at least less sharp than the others.

"The Comte described him as having his father's likeness, but his mother's soul," Gustave put in.

"I knew your mother," the third man said. "She had the kindest soul of any I had come across."

"Thank you, monsieur," Adam said with a grateful bow, glad that his mother was remembered so fondly.

"I did not know his mother, monsieur," Belle spoke up for the first time since entering the parlor. "But I think I know Adam's soul, and it is indeed beautiful." Adam turned his gaze to look warmly at her, grateful for her words and touched by them.

"Ah, you are the. . .woman Gustave has told us about," the fourth man at last spoke. This man made Adam's breath catch in his throat in near terror; his dark eyes were set deep, seeming to look out from shadows, his face thin and sharpest of all his companions.

"My name is Belle, monsieur," she replied boldly and Adam smiled at her unwavering strength. "May I ask yours?"

Again, a silence that pressed on Adam's ears, as if Belle had just dared to ask this surly, sharp man to recite his deepest secrets.

"Jean," he said simply, then motioned his hand to his other companions and introduced them as well. "Antoine," meaning the third, kinder man. "Robert," to the second, shorter man. "Bernard," to the man who spoke first.

"It's very nice to meet you all," Belle replied when Jean had finished introducing them all, flashing a particularly beautiful smile that Adam recognized as one that had so easily warmed a Beast's heart. "I think I would like some tea. Would anyone else like to join me?"

"But Gustave already. . ." Adam started, but was interrupted as Jean spoke.

"I think we would, thank you," Jean said and suddenly his eyes did not look quite so dark. _She is amazing_, Adam remarked to himself. Moments later, Mrs. Potts arrived with tea and the four men settled more comfortably into their chairs.

"Shall we discuss what is to be done, Your Highness?" Antoine asked.

"Of—of course," he agreed, still amazed at the noticeably lighter mood of the room since Belle had so simply warmed these men.

"Gustave was telling us how such a thing had never happened before," Belle remarked, sitting on the sofa beside Jean. "That a hereditary line has never been so muddled before."

"This would be the first time something like this has happened. Though it certainly isn't the oddest," Jean confirmed and went into a rather boring history of Adam's family line and those lines who had gotten lost or sidestepped as far as third cousins. Adam's attention wandered, having gone through this many times with Gustave, but he noticed how Belle remained apt and attentive, nodding as Jean spoke. _A true Princess_, he said and smiled to himself.

* * *

"You are a miracle, my child!" Gustave exclaimed to Belle that night when the advisors had been shown their rooms. They had talked of Adam's future, eaten luncheon, conferenced further, had supper, and at last were content that Adam was well prepared to resume his rightful place. Through it all, Belle had been by Adam's side, listening intently to these men and somehow keeping them from speaking the harsh words Adam had been so sure they were ready to say to him that morning.

"I don't know what you've done to them, but I've never seen those men warm up to someone so quickly!" Gustave continued, embracing Belle. Adam watched her cheeks flush, whether with pleasure or embarrassment he couldn't be sure.

"I know what she did," Adam put in, taking his turn in embracing his fiancée. "She was bold and brave and quite herself. Well done," he said to the woman in his arms and tenderly kissed her forehead.

* * *

Belle's POV

A week later, Belle stood by as she watched her beloved announce his entire court, or what seemed like nearly all of it anyway, that he was Prince Adam, son of the late Prince Edmund, and he was reclaiming his rightful place with the blessing of Gustave. Her heart swelled with pride for him, amazed at how his strong voice carried over the heads of the crowd before him seemingly fearlessly, though Belle was close enough to notice how his hands shook slightly. He stood tall atop a small platform that put him above the crowd so all might see him, accompanied only by Gustave who stood a short ways away to his right and an archbishop, summoned to oversee the ceremony, stood further back to Adam's left. Belle stood proudly in the front row of the crowd beside the Comte Henry and his wife, and did her best to ignore the Marquis and Nicole who stood on her other side.

When Adam declared himself, the crowd bent as one into bows of homage. Belle joined them, but could not resist peeking up at Adam. He was staring at her, an unsure smile on his face and Belle recalled that he did not enjoy being bowed to. She smiled at him and wrinkled her nose, silently teasing him and making his hesitant smile grow into a grin.

There was a formal gathering in the ballroom afterwards and Belle was finally able to take in the immense crowd that had come to the castle to see their new prince. It was not so massive as Belle had feared, but many who attended were nobles of equal or greater status than Adam and had come merely for the spectacle, making the crowd grow unnecessarily. Belle certainly did not envy Adam for having to speak in front of that mass.

She stood to the side for a few moments at the beginning of the gathering, remarking at how different an occasion this was from the celebration amongst the servants at the end of the enchantment. That had been a lively event, filled with laughter and energetic dancing. Now the ballroom seemed to have grown stiff with people who had been brought up to suppress the idea of lively fun, contenting themselves with graceful waltzes and conversations of weather and politics.

"I'm glad that's over with," Adam's voice whispered into her ear as she contemplated the change in atmosphere. "You almost made me laugh up there at the end."

"Sorry," she said with a smile, though truly not very sorry at all. "I'm so proud of you," she continued more seriously, taking his arm and raising her face to meet his eyes. "You were wonderful."

"Humph, every bit of me wanted to run and hide in the West Wing," he admitted. "I still do. This reminds me of what the castle used to be like when I was little. Stiff and boring."

"Perhaps I should invite Chip down to dance with them," she suggested merrily, remembering how she had danced with the boy with much more life than she guessed some of these nobles could ever dream of.

"That'd be something I'd like to see. Madame Pompous over there would probably faint," he said, subtly motioning to an older woman with a ridiculous wig and an expression of someone who had just smelled something unpleasant.

"Probably," she agreed with a giggle. "I suppose I'll just have to settle for you as a dance partner, then." She took his hand and led him forwards. "Besides," she added as they prepared to dance. "What better way to prove to them you're really a noble than to let them see you dance?"

"I think you might be overestimating my abilities," he chuckled, but led her around the floor just the same. "You know, now that this is over we can finally focus on our wedding," Adam said as they danced. It was a light waltz, allowing the breath for conversation.

"Thank goodness. I don't know how much longer I can keep Nicole at bay," she said, half teasing and looked over to where Nicole was standing. The girl was staring at them, a blatant look of anger twisting her otherwise pretty face. Belle smiled as sweetly as she could manage at her before turning her attention back to Adam.

"You still want to marry me after all this nonsense? After putting it off for so long to deal with my uncle and the court?" Adam asked and Belle could see in his eyes that he was truly concerned that he had ruined everything by having to settle the madness of politics first.

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed. "Adam, I love you so very much. I want to be with you, and I would wait as long as you needed." She reached up to stroke his cheek, thinking how she never thought she would get the chance to be with her true love, how he was almost taken from her in one terrible moment of anger and jealousy. The dance ended and Adam took the opportunity to pull Belle into a kiss. She felt his fingers comb gently through her hair and smiled, recalling how the Beast had done such a thing before; it had been a sparkling, pure moment in a time that had otherwise been banished to her nightmares.

"Adam?" she began, breaking the kiss to look up into his beautiful blue eyes.

"Mhm?"

"Will you marry me?"

"I would love to," he replied with a grin and spun her into another dance.


	38. Chapter 38

Belle's POV

She walked slowly down the aisle, gripping the bouquet of flowers until her fingers ached. Papa walked beside her, solemn and silent as he led her forwards. She had dreamed of this day since she was a little girl, walking towards her true love to be joined together until death. But now her heart was breaking with every step she took; she felt a tear fall, rolling slowly down her cheek and she made no effort to brush it aside. What did she care what he thought of her tears?

She reached the end of the aisle and had to turn to face the man she was to marry, though she could not make herself raise her eyes to look at him. It was enough to see their hands joined, the course hair on his knuckles chafing her fingers.

"Do you, Gaston, take Belle to be your wedded wife. . ." the village priest droned without emotion. Belle began to panic; she was marrying Gaston! _Why_ was she marrying Gaston? This wasn't _right_! Her mind shot back to the moment on the balcony after Gaston had stabbed her Beast. She had thought the Beast had lived and Gaston fell to his death, but her mind painted an image of the Beast's lifeless body, Gaston looming over him triumphantly. Another tear made its way down her cheek as she remembered holding a dying Beast in her arms only to be dragged away by Gaston moments later, forced to marry him to save her father from the asylum after all.

Belle raised her eyes from their joined hands to the disgusting, conquering smirk on her betrothed's face. She began to shake with anger: this man had killed her true love and forced her to marry him to keep her father from a horrible fate. There had to be something else she could do. If only the Beast was alive, this all could have been avoided.

"No," she said in defiance to what was happening, softly at first, no more than a whisper. Gaston's face twisted into an expression of rage; this was clearly not the response he wanted from the bride he had so maliciously pursued, but that only gave Belle courage. "No!" she repeated, stronger this time and tore her hands away from his. "NO!" With that, she flew back down the aisle, wanting nothing more than to find her Beast.

She ran through the forest that rose up to meet her, calling for her Beast, all too aware that Gaston had started to chase her. She lifted her heavy skirts above her ankles and ran faster, afraid what would happen when this horrible, dangerous man would catch her. If only she could find her Beast. He couldn't truly be dead, not after everything they had been though.

"Beast!" she called one last time, but it was too late. Gaston caught hold of her arm and pulled her painfully back towards him.

"You're mine," he growled, rage filling his eyes and sending Belle's heart pounding in terror.

"No! Beast!" she called one more time, but it was useless. Gaston pulled her back through the dark trees, away from the castle she had tried to reach, away from her Beast.

Belle jolted herself awake to the sound of someone shouting, only to discover that she was the one who was screaming the Beast's name.

The dream was still strong in her mind, unwilling to let her out of its grip and she bolted upright only to sob into her hands.

"Belle?" she heard a voice call to her, but she was unable to answer, her sobs taking her breath from her. Arms curled around her and she flinched from them, certain it was Gaston taking her away from her Beast, but the arms stayed where they were and she heard a soft voice call her name again. Confused at who could be speaking to her so kindly, she looked up to see a man with auburn hair holding her. Where was her Beast? But she met his kind blue eyes and suddenly the true events since she had shown Gaston the Beast's image in the magic mirror flooded her mind.

"Adam?" she said, still trying to drag herself out of the nightmare's grasp.

"It's all right, Belle. You're safe," he said gently. At the sound of his voice together connected with his touch, Belle was able to shake herself out of her nightmare, but its horrors became all the more sharper for it. She clutched at him, bidding him to hold her closer and could not stop the tears from coursing down her cheeks, horrified at what her dreams had shown her.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Adam asked and she felt his fingers move to gently run through her hair. She shivered at the familiar gesture, simultaneously comforting her and reminding her of that horrible night. She shook her head in response to his question and burrowed herself closer into his chest like a child, tears still making their way steadily down her face. "You're all right," he said softly and she felt him move so she might rest against his chest more comfortably. She leaned against him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and listened to the beat of his heart lull her into a more gentle sleep.

* * *

Belle woke to the unfamiliar feeling of soft velvet beneath her cheek. It was comfortable, so at first she didn't question it, but then she realized that the velvet rose and fell gently as if it was breathing. Confused, she sat up and saw that she had somehow fallen asleep on Adam's chest, the velvet of his coat providing her soft pillow. As she moved, his arm fell away from her shoulders and he stirred a little before waking up.

"Good morning," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Good—good morning," she replied uncertainly, wondering why on earth Adam had fallen asleep in her room.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, sitting up straighter in her bed. At the question, Belle recalled the nightmare that had woken her screaming in the middle of the night and she shivered. Adam reached up and wrapped the dressing gown more tightly around her shoulders in a effort meant to warm her. Belle hadn't realized she had been wearing it, but was grateful for the extra covering; it would have been highly improper for Adam to be there with her just in her nightgown. Fortunately, Adam seemed to not have even bothered to take off his boots when he came to her rescue, further diminishing whatever scandal there might have been.

"Was the dream that horrible?" Adam asked and Belle realized she had not responded to his first question. She nodded and took Adam's hand, reassured by its soft touch after the coarseness of Gaston's hands in her dream.

"You were dead," she was finally able to say. "You were dead and I had to marry Gaston. I tried to run away from him to find you, but he caught me. And that's when I woke up." She closed her eyes tightly, trying to keep herself from seeing Gaston's sharp blue eyes gaze at her so greedily as she stood before him in her wedding gown.

"Oh, Belle," Adam said gently and tucked a strand of hair away from her face. "Belle, it's all right. Gaston is gone, he can't hurt you any more."

"I know," she replied and took a steadying breath, bringing herself back into reality. "Why are you here? I mean, I hope I wasn't screaming so loudly you could hear me from the West Wing."

"No, but you did give your father quite a scare," he said with a small smile. "Yes, he knows I'm here." Belle nodded, glad she wouldn't have to try to explain Adam's presence to her father. "I couldn't sleep," Adam continued. "So I was just wandering around the halls. I was nearby when you started calling for the Beast. I met your father near your door, but it was me you reached for."

"I'm sorry about that," she said, ashamed that she had let the dream frighten her so much.

"Don't be sorry," he insisted quickly as if he anticipated those words. "It meant so much to me to be able to be there for you, more than I think you realize." Belle smiled and leaned back into his arms, listening to the heartbeat that calmed her sleep so easily. She allowed herself a few more childish moments of feeling the safety of his arm before sitting up once more.

"Papa will be waiting for us for breakfast," she said, smoothing her doubtlessly messy hair. Adam took her hands away from her hair and kissed the tops of them.

"I'll see you in a few minutes," he said and stood to leave.

"Adam?" she said before he could reach the door. He turned back, his expression one of worry. "Thank you." He smiled and nodded.

"You know, in a few days I'll be there beside you. I won't have to be roaming the halls like a ghost to be able to chase away your nightmares." Belle grinned and Adam left, leaving her to dress and daydream of the fast upcoming day where she would become Adam's wife. A bubble of excitement filled her, knowing with all her heart that _this_ was truly the wedding she wished for.

* * *

There was one problem with having the wedding so close now; the guests had come to stay in the castle to attend the wedding, and among those guests included the Marquis and Nicole. Belle had managed to avoid Nicole frequently enough by keeping herself extremely busy with the wedding preparations, but all too often the girl somehow found a way to be bothersome. While Belle was helping the servants to arrange the flowers on the pews of the chapel inside the castle (yet another room that had been closed off and left to the dust for ten years), Nicole decided to follow behind and offer her opinions on how the flowers should be done differently.

"Roses are so _boring_," she said as she trailed behind Belle. "I would much rather prefer peonies."

"I'm sure you can arrange that for your own wedding," Belle replied, hardly paying attention to her. She had far too much to do than to waste time arguing with Nicole. But Nicole's response almost made Belle forget that.

"This _should_ have been mine," the girl muttered. Belle whirled around, anger pulsing through her as she only felt when Nicole was at her worst. But she looked into the girl's cold green eyes and found that her anger faded away into pity. This girl had been given every luxury and still was so unhappy; it occurred to her that this was what Adam might have been like when he was a boy, before the enchantment took hold of him. What must it be like to have everything and yet still nothing?

"Let's sit for a moment," Belle suggested and drew the girl down to sit beside her in one of the chapel's pews.

"You know it's true," Nicole continued. "I should have been the one to marry Adam."

"Nicole," she started and tried very hard to keep her frustration at bay. "I understand you're angry with me for taking away what you thought was supposed to be yours. But do you even love Adam?"

"What has love got to do with anything?" she demanded, clearly seeing no point in the question.

"Love is everything," Belle replied, amazed at herself for keeping the surprise out of her voice. "Marriage is so much more than finding a good social match. I knew someone in the village where I come from who thought like you. He wanted to marry me only because he thought I was beautiful enough to hang on his arm as some sort of trophy and give him handsome children."  
"Well, I suppose you're beautiful for a village girl, but. . ." Nicole started, but Belle cut her off.

"The point is, I never loved him, and he never loved me. I couldn't marry someone who I couldn't trust to take care of my heart. But then I met Adam and I realized how full a life could be. I never want to go a day without seeing him or feeling the touch of his hand in mine." There was so much more Belle wanted to say, how she found comfort in his gaze and dreamed of him at night, but such things were too close to her heart to be shared with Nicole. "You deserve that, too," Belle continued. "You should be free to find someone to share your life and your heart with, not simply find a match because it would improve your social status."

Nicole was silent for a moment, staring at the carved wooden back of the pew in front of them. Belle began to worry that she had somehow offended the girl, but still hoped that Nicole found truth in her words. "I—" she started hesitantly. "My father always said that I had to marry someone who was rich enough to take care of us, who would improve our social standing. There's so few of those left who would marry me. When Adam came back my father wanted me to do everything I could to get Adam to marry me, even though we knew about you." Belle nodded and realized that it was truly the Marquis who had been behind all of this, not Nicole, though she certainly did her best to help the plot along. A father who wanted a better life for his daughter was something Belle could relate to, even if the Marquis was a bit more cruel in his methods.

"I understand," Belle replied. "I know you'll find someone who will please both your father and yourself. Though I think that if you find someone you love who loves you in return, your father will want your happiness in the end." Nicole shook her head but did not respond.

"I should go," she said suddenly and all but ran from the chapel. Belle watched her go, hoping that she had seen a moment of understanding in her eyes, hardly daring to believe that a few simple words could affect her so greatly. Hoping she had done more good than harm, Belle stood to continue arranging the flowers, but her thoughts were still on Nicole.

* * *

Beast's POV

Now that he had officially been declared Prince, Adam found himself nearly bombarded by his advisors, other nobles, and even some people from the nearby villagers with all kinds of pleas and requests. He tried to take care of these requests as best he could, but too quickly he found himself overwhelmed by them. The four advisors had left the castle in the north to live in Adam's castle; their nearness allowed them to help Adam with these requests, but Adam wasn't so sure he liked how full the castle was growing. Granted, many of the people who were there only came for the wedding and would leave when it was over. But with the four advisors and their servants, as well as his uncle and his manservant, the castle was far more crowded than he wanted. More and more often he found himself saddling a horse to escape the crowded castle and the confusing madness that centered around the wedding.

It wasn't long ago that Adam had the castle nearly all to himself, the servants too afraid of the Beast to bother him as he growled and brooded through the halls. He was sure he never wanted to go back to that horrible solitude, especially if it meant losing Belle, but having so many people suddenly around him made Adam uncomfortable. So he sought refuge in the empty fields of his lands and the freedom of riding across them. One morning, the day after he had comforted Belle from her nightmare of Gaston, he went down to the stables only to find Belle outside it, sitting astride Philippe, the horse he had been using saddled and ready beside her.

"So I guess we're going riding together?" he said merrily, walking up to stand beside Belle.

"I thought it might be nice to get some time together," replied, looking down at him as she sat on her horse, her smile bright and warm. "We've both been busy with one thing or another."

"Good idea," he agreed and easily vaulted onto his own horse. They didn't race this time, merely trotted through the grounds and talked of anything but their recent responsibilities. Though Belle did mention a rather interesting encounter with Nicole as she was arranging flowers in the castle's chapel. It seemed as though Belle had managed to at least provoke Nicole into thinking about what she had been doing.

They spent a few hours away from the bustle of the castle, talking and laughing as though they had nothing waiting for them. Belle had even brought a book in her saddlebags and they took turns reading chapters to each other. Eventually though, the blissful, peaceful time had to end and they returned to the castle. As they left their horses to the stable hands and turned towards the castle door, Adam sighed, unwilling to return to the chaos inside.

He felt Belle's hand slide into his own and he closed his fingers gently around it, his heart lifting with the knowledge that in just three days they would be wed. Though he couldn't help the guilty pleasure he felt at the knowledge that when the wedding was over it would also mean things would quiet down again.

* * *

Two days remained until the wedding and Adam found himself growing nervous for the coming event. He began to doubt yet again that he was good enough for Belle; surely someone like him couldn't deserve someone as good and kind as her. His own memories were certainly no help to him, jumping back painfully to the moments where he imprisoned Belle's father, took away her own freedom, yelled and growled at her, and put his own needs ahead of hers. Adam was still so afraid of reverting back to his cruel, selfish ways despite Belle's influence.

But whenever he was near her Adam felt whole, as if a piece of himself had been missing and was only truly filled when he held her in his arms. She had done so much for him, teaching him and guiding him, giving him a love he had never known before; how could he bear to no longer have her in his life?

As he stood in the West Wing during a rare moment of solitude, Adam turned to the rose that still remained under the bell jar, suspended in air yet void of any other magic. Now that he had found true love, he couldn't bear to think of losing it and tried to trust that Belle felt the same. She had accepted his proposal, hadn't she? Not to mention she remained in the castle with him and helped him through the nearly overwhelming duties of Prince. Surely Belle would never have done such things if she didn't love him. Adam closed his eyes and smiled as he saw Belle's beautiful face looking down at him as he knelt before her, her eyes seeming to sparkle with her obvious joy as he asked the ever-important question.

A knock on the door drew him out of his thoughts of his betrothed and he bid whoever it was to enter. Lumiere appeared from behind the door and strode up to him, his long face set into an expression of excitement.

"The final details are complete, Master!" he exclaimed as he drew near to Adam. "All is ready for your wedding the day after tomorrow!"

"Good," he grunted. "Thank you for everything you've done, Lumiere. I know Belle was grateful for your help. And so am I."  
"It was my pleasure, Master," Lumiere said with a humble bow but Adam noticed that he was pleased by the comment.

"Was there something else?" Adam asked, seeing how Lumiere hesitated.

"I _was_ wondering if you had thought about what you might get Belle as a wedding gift," he replied. Adam chuckled, grateful for Lumiere's reliable help.

"I _had_, actually," Adam replied. "But thank you for reminding me."

"May I ask what you are giving her?" Lumiere asked and Adam could tell he was trying to hide his surprise that Adam had remembered such a detail himself. This had not always been the case with him, after all.

"You can, but that doesn't mean I'll tell you," he replied merrily. "I'd like to keep it a secret, if you don't mind."

"But of course, Master," Lumiere agreed easily. "I have also come to say that lunch will be served soon."

"Thank you," Adam said and Lumiere left. Adam turned back to the rose and grinned, his previously gloomy thoughts banished as he imagined Belle's reaction to the gift he had planned for her.

* * *

Belle's POV

She had just finished the final fitting of her wedding gown and she couldn't have felt more relived. Her mother's gown had been restored to its former glory and altered slightly to better suit the times and Belle's form. But while Belle was grateful for the seamstresses' beautiful, careful work, she couldn't help but feel rather like a pincushion by the time they were done.

Belle just finished dressing into one of her simpler, more comfortable gowns, eager for the relief from the constricting and uncomfortable pins when a small knock came from the door. The seamstresses had left, shooed along by Estelle, and the knock was too low on the door to have come from any adult anyway. Curious, Belle opened the door to find Chip standing in the hall in front of her door.  
"Chip!" she exclaimed, happy to see the boy but wondering what had provoked him to visit her room. "What can I do for you?"

"I—I wanted to talk to you, Belle," he replied and Belle was surprised to see him look rather worried about something.

"Of course!" She stepped aside to let the boy in and sat at the small table by the window so she might be more at his eye level. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No. . .I mean, maybe," he started hesitantly. He trailed off and seemed to be trying to figure out what to say, so Belle simply waited. "Your Papa likes my Mamma," he finally blurted out. Belle felt her eyes widen in surprise; of everything Chip could have said to her, Belle never expected that.

"Yes, Chip, they do," she said gently, again waiting for Chip to continue with his thoughts.

"I like your Papa. He teaches me how to build things and doesn't mind me hanging around unless he says it's too dangerous. And I'm glad he's nice to Mamma," he went on after a moment. "But I don't want them to get married."

"Well I don't think that will happen for quite some time," she tried to assure him, but Chip shook his head. "Why don't you want them to?" she asked.

"Because then Mamma will be your _stepmother_," he said, his eyes widening to emphasize his point. Belle was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what Chip meant.

"Oh, you mean like in Cinderella?" she finally pieced together. She had just read the story to them earlier that week; apparently it made a greater impression on the boy than she realized. Chip nodded, his expression a mix of sadness and fear. "Chip, do you really think your mother could be even the least bit cruel to me?" she asked, holding out her hands to draw Chip into her arms.

"But all the stories say. . ."

"If my Papa and your mother do marry, that means I'll also be your stepsister. Do you really think I would ever even _imagine_ treating you the way Cinderella's stepsisters treated them?" Chip paused and then slowly began shaking his head. "Your mother is one of the kindest people I've ever known. I know she'll be just as good to me as she is to you. Remember that the stories don't know everything. The Master was a great beast at the beginning of our own story, wasn't he? And he turned out to be the hero; very few of the stories talk about that."

"I thought _you_ were the hero," Chip argued merrily, seeming to understand what Belle had been saying.

"We were _all_ heroes," she replied and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yup. I think I'm going to tell Margaret and Luke a story about _nice_ stepmothers and stepsisters," he said merrily and squirmed out of her arms.

"Good idea," she agreed and watched as Chip rushed out of the room. She sat for a moment longer and smiled at the thought of her father finding a happiness he had not known since her mother was alive. But Chip's comment reminded her that she had work to do, so she stood and made her way towards her next task.

* * *

Belle and Adam had spent a wonderful morning in the library reading _The Odyssey_. Belle was glad Adam was no longer shy about reading to her; though Belle enjoyed sharing the stories with Adam, it was much more enjoyable being able to give her voice a rest. It was a relief to be doing something that did not involved the wedding, something enjoyable from her normal routine. Belle was excited beyond belief, but the thought of it also made her a bit queasy. She decided it was best not to think about it and merely enjoy Adam's company.

But after they shared lunch together (her father coming up only long enough to grab a plate of food before returning to his workroom) it became impossible to ignore, for Lumiere and Cogsworth had come and insisted that she and Adam say goodbye until tomorrow.

"You cannot see each other twenty-four hours before the ceremony!" Lumiere exclaimed.

"Really I think it's supposed to be longer than that, but I let Lumiere have this one," Cogsworth added, sounding a bit resentful.

"But—" Belle began and looked at Adam helplessly. But to her surprise, he was grinning.

"All right, all right," he agreed and placed his hands on the shoulders of his two loyal servants. "I promise I'll go and hide from Belle soon. Give us a few minutes?" Cogsworth grumbled a bit, but Lumiere shoved him back through the door and they were gone. Before Belle could say anything, Adam had his arms around her shoulders and was pulling her gently to his chest. She complied willingly, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"You still do want to marry me, right?" she heard him ask and realized that Adam was as frightened of tomorrow as she was. But she knew that to have Adam in her life was exactly what she had been dreaming of and that knowledge gave her courage.

"Of course," she said, her voice muffled slightly within the folds of his jacket. "I love you, Adam. You're my home; I'd do anything to be with you." Adam's arms held her tighter and she felt him kiss the top of her head. She raised her face to his and pulled him into a proper kiss, enjoying the bliss of their lips gently pressing together. They broke apart and Adam drew her close to him again.

"I love you, too," he whispered into her hair before releasing her. "So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow," she confirmed and drew him into one last kiss knowing the next time they did so they would be man and wife. He smiled at her one more time before leaving, presumably to return to the West Wing and Belle was she left wondering what she should do while she waited for the coming day.

* * *

_Ok, just tying up some loose ends in this chapter. But guess what's coming next! Fair warning: it might take a few extra days for this next chapter to come up because I really want to make sure I get it right! So bear with me and enjoy reading in the meantime!_


	39. Chapter 39

_Ok, first of all, let me just tell you that weddings are _Hard_ to write! Seriously, I think I'm going to avoid them from now on, and I understand why no one's really written one for these two before!_

_That being said, I did what I could for this, poured my heart and soul and literally some tears into these next two chapters, so I really, really hope you like it!_

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam woke the next morning but did not open his eyes right away, trying to understand the bubble of excitement that welled up in his chest. He took the moments of confusion to stretch, allowing his mind to catch up with his heart and smiled broadly as he realized this was the day he would finally marry Belle. Though he should have immediately gotten up to get ready for the day, he lingered a moment or two, smiling bemusedly as he wondered what the day would bring. He tried to picture what Belle might look like in her mother's wedding dress she refused to show him, but his imagination failed him. With a frustrated sigh, he finally rose and dressed in an informal linen shirt and trousers. The wedding was still hours away and he did not relish the idea of being in his rather uncomfortable suit more than he had to.

Though he wanted nothing more than to go down to breakfast with Belle, he knew that it would bring bad luck to do so, so he simply summoned Cogsworth. The plump, flustered man came moments later with Adam's breakfast and news of his bride.

"She's eating breakfast with her father in the small dining room," he began.

"How did she look? Did she say anything?" Adam asked quickly, wondering if Belle felt as nervous as he did.

"She—" Cogsworth paused and for a moment Adam began to fear for the worst. "She seems to be so very _happy_, sire," he continued with a wide grin. "You have nothing to fear. As a matter of fact, she asked that I tell you 'good morning' and that she is very eager to see you."

Adam found more pleasure than perhaps he should have from a simple message, but he could not stop the grin that spread across his face. "Thank you, Cogsworth."

"Is there a reply?" he pressed.

"You're actually volunteering to send messages back and forth now?" Adam asked, astounded Cogsworth had offered such a thing.

"Oh, just this once, Master," Cogsworth replied and Adam inwardly smiled.

"Well, if you're sure, tell Belle. . .tell her. Tell her I'll see her soon," he finished lamely. There was so much he would've liked to say instead, but not through Cogsworth.

"Very well, Master," he agreed and left, though Adam did not miss the amused smirk on Cogsworth's face.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle wished her father would have stayed with her that morning, but directly after breakfast he returned to his workroom, saying he wanted to fix a few things before the hubbub of the day started. So she was left to pass the time until Estelle would inevitably bustle her off to get ready for her wedding. Her _wedding_! She elated at the knowledge that in a few hours she would be at her wedding, marrying Adam.

When she first moved to the village from Paris, she had almost hated her father for taking her away from her best chances to have an adventure. A small village didn't seem like any place to find the adventure she dreamed of, to live the exciting life she could then only experience through her books. But she was wrong, so very, gloriously wrong. She had found more wonders than she had ever imagined truly possible: an enchantment in a mysterious castle, a strange, heartsore creature, new friends who cared for her as she did them, and a powerful love she thought only existed in books.

It was certainly not the adventure she had anticipated; it had really become more than she imagined.

Coming out of her thoughts, Belle decided it would be best to revisit some of those old stories, the better to distract herself from the nervous bubble of excitement that had started to grow in her chest. So she curled herself up onto her favorite window seat with _King Arthur_ and dove into its pages, every so often recalling fondly her Beast's reaction when she first read it to him.

* * *

"_There_ you are!" Estelle's voice broke into King Arthur's world some time later and Belle smiled, knowing it was only a matter of time before she was found. "We've got to get going if you want to make it to your wedding on time!"

"I'm coming," she said, suppressing a giggle at Estelle's frantic attitude. As Estelle fairly dragged her back to her room to prepare, Belle couldn't help the bubble of excitement that grew inside her with every step she took, knowing that in a matter of hours she would be standing before Adam to become his wife.

Mrs. Potts was waiting for them in Belle's room, as Belle had anticipated. What she had not expected was to see Babette there as well.

"Bonjour, Mistress!" the young maid exclaimed when Belle entered. "Is this not exciting? You are to at last be married!" Belle agreed and embraced the excited woman. "I am so glad to be here with you all!" Babette continued. "I absolutely adore weddings! Thank you for allowing me to help you, Mistress!" Belle smiled at Babette's evident eagerness and set aside the fact that she could not actually remember asking for Babette's help.

Before she was ready to hand herself over to the three women, Belle turned to where her wedding gown now hung on the wardrobe's door, eager for a look at the finished product that had been delivered while she was in the library that morning. The castle's seamstresses had done a magnificent job bringing her mother's dress back to life. Folded in the trunk for years, it had become quite faded and very much out of fashion. Belle was convinced that some sort of magic had been worked into the gown to bring it to such beauty.

The white gown, which had once been a rather simple thing with little in the way of embellishments, had been altered to now befit a princess. The full skirt had been layered underneath with new fabric and fluffed back to life, just surpassing the girth of skirt of Belle's yellow gown. The skirt's hem, which Belle was glad to see was no grander than her yellow gown which would allow her to dance better, was lined with silver ribbon. The seam where the bodice met the skirt, coming to a point in the front, was also lined with a silver ribbon. A sheer, silver fabric was gathered below her shoulders in a similar style with the yellow gown, but the silver fabric continued to gather at the center of the bodice with a small cluster of pearls at their meeting point. A bolt of the sheer fabric also draped over the white skirt, tucked and inlaid with small diamonds at its hem, giving the illusion that her gown was sparkling silver. It was too lovely: a dress meant for a fairy or a princess rather than for a simple village girl.

"Come now, love," Mrs. Potts said, drawing Belle out of her thoughts as she felt the woman's hands on her shoulders. "You should have a bath, then we'll help dress your hair." Belle did as she was bid, turning away from the fairy dress to enter her washroom.

She lingered in the warm water that was waiting for her perhaps longer than she should have, making sure to scrub every speck of garden soil from under her fingernails. She would not give any of the nobles cause to say she was not fit to stand beside Adam, not this day of all days. For what seemed the hundredth time, she suppressed the awful thought that perhaps she should not be marrying Adam; she was only a village girl, after all. A mere peasant. What claim did she have on a Prince? Was all this only because she was the one to break the enchantment? She shook her head, suppressing those horrible thoughts once more, but they were getting harder to ignore.

When she was sufficiently scrubbed, her skin pink from her efforts, she dried herself off and took a deep breath, preparing herself for the chaos that was about to unfold with the combined efforts of Estelle, Babette, and Mrs. Potts to prepare Belle for the wedding.

Some time later, Belle had been primped and petted over more than she thought she could stand, but the result was rather astonishing. Estelle had done Belle's hair quite similar to how it had been dressed for Belle's first dance with the Beast, except now there was a silver band in her hair rather than one of gold and atop her head rested a delicate silver tiara. It was wondrously ornate item, the silver twisted and curved around itself, holding several diamonds and pearls in its embrace. Belle had tried to object to wearing it, saying that she was not yet a princess and did not deserve such a thing.

"It's customary that the bride of nobility does wear one, my dear," Mrs. Potts insisted. "And it does look gorgeous on you. The Master would be pleased if you wore it."

"We shouldn't keep spoiling him by giving him what he wants, you know," she protested amiably, but kept the tiara where it was.

A knock at the door paused Belle's preparations and Babette opened the door to reveal Louis, of all people.

"Louis!" Belle exclaimed, happily surprised at the sight of the old gardener.

"Bonjour, Belle," he greeted and Belle smiled, glad that he was one of the few who still called her by her name. "Lumiere put me in charge of your bouquet and, well here," Louis continued and held out a lovely bouquet of flowers.

"Oh, Louis they're beautiful!" Belle exclaimed and took the bouquet to examine it. It was made up primarily of a striking blue flower, morning glories perhaps, dotted with small white lilies that had barely begun to open. As Belle looked closer, however, she noticed at the center of the bouquet, hidden beneath the dominant layer of blue and white, was a deep red rose. "Oh, Louis," she breathed and caressed the hidden rose gently; it was a rose that had led Belle and Adam through their adventures together, both the enchanted one and the ones that grew in the garden where Adam proposed to her. It was fitting that she should carry one with her today.

Before Louis could stop her, Belle bent to embrace him. "Thank you so much," she said as she wrapped her arms around his stiff figure. He was clearly surprised by her reaction, but Belle felt his hand gently pat her back.

"Good luck today," he said as she finally released him. And without another word, Louis left again, closing the door behind him.

"I'll put this somewhere safe while you finish getting ready, Mistress," Babette offered and took the bouquet from Belle's hands.

"Thank you," she replied and watched after her little bundle of flowers for a moment before turning at last to put on her wedding gown, her heart beating furiously.

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam's fingers fumbled nervously over the buttons of his coat: a handsome, silk garment of a blue so pale it seemed to be almost a white sort of silver.

"You'll be fine, Master," Cogsworth insisted as he smoothed out Adam's collar for him.

"Oui, Master. You have already earned Belle's love. Now all you must do now is claim it for the world to know!" Lumiere added grandly. Adam smiled at the words that were meant to embolden him, but he was far too nervous for them to do much good. This was a terror like nothing he had ever felt before; the only time he had come even close to feeling like this was the night he first danced with Belle in the ballroom, the night he finally decided to tell Belle how he truly felt about her. For all his excitement at the idea of sharing his first formal evening with Belle, he was twice as nervous at the thought of it. But now, at the brink of a new passage of his life, the excitement and fear now coiled up in his stomach until he hardly knew which way was up.

He wished he could talk to Belle before the ceremony, hear the kind, calming words she might speak to him. But of course that was impossible, so he simply had to trust that all would be well. After everything they had been through, it simply _had_ to be. Adam glanced at the image of himself in the mirror one last time; he had gotten more or less used to seeing the man reflected back at him but it still took him a moment to remind himself that he _was_ that man. He didn't know what image to expect instead, certainly not that of the Beast's, but somehow the image he saw was not quite his own.

"Are you ready, Master?" Cogsworth asked, provoking Adam into turning away from the mirror. "We should be nearly ready to start now."

"Y-yes," he replied uncertainly, trying and failing to find his bravery.

"Would it help if you used the mirror?" Lumiere suggested, motioning to the small hand mirror Adam had not touched since the enchantment was broken. He wasn't even sure if it still worked, but the idea of seeing Belle now was nearly irresistible.

"That's cheating, Lumiere," Adam said, wanting more than anything to catch a glimpse of her, to reassure himself that this was all quite real. Lumiere grinned sheepishly and said nothing further. "I wish I could talk to her though, just for a moment, just to. . . I don't know." Adam trailed off and told himself he was acting like a child. He would see Belle in a matter of minutes when they stood side by side to be married.

A sudden knock at the door sent his already nervous heart nearly flying through his chest.

"Who is it?" Cogsworth asked, his voice full with confusion as he walked towards the doors.

"It's me," Belle's voice called, muffled behind the thick wood. "Don't open the door but . . . could I talk to Adam for a moment?"

"We shall be downstairs, Master," Lumiere said and all but pushed Cogsworth out the door to make a hasty exit. Adam heard Lumiere exclaim 'Oh, la la!' as he undoubtedly caught sight of Belle, but the door shut before Adam could be tempted to peak.

"Adam?" Belle's voice called again and he quickly stepped up to the door, all but pressing himself into it as if he could slip through the solid wood to the girl on the other side.

"Belle, is everything all right?" he asked quickly, afraid of why she might be seeking him out now.

"Yes. I just—I just wanted to talk to you. I've missed you and. . .well I'm a little nervous," she confessed. Adam put his hand to the door, wishing he could embrace her.

"I am, too," he admitted. "But it's just you and me," he continued, finding that his confidence was somehow growing in the light of Belle's nervousness. She had always been the one to comfort him, to be calm and understanding when he was confused or worried. Now it was his turn to comfort her at last. "Belle, I love you. This whole thing is bigger than either of us wanted, I know. But all that matters, all that's important, is that we love each other. We'll belong to each other after this; I think we already do, but now everyone will know it. And then we can travel the world and you can have the adventures you've always dreamed of."

"I know I'm being silly," her voice said after a moment. "But you're not. . . not just marrying me because I'm the one who broke the enchantment?"

"No," Adam answered quickly, almost growing angry that Belle should have thought such a thing. "Belle, no. We fell in love with each other, and that's why the enchantment broke. It was not _because_ of the curse that I fell in love with you. It had nothing to do with that. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry, I know this is ridiculous. . ."

"It's not ridiculous. Belle. . ." Frustrated with the door at last, Adam opened it, just a few inches, and extended his hand towards the woman who had been his strength for so long and now at last needed him. His heart leapt as he felt Belle's hand slip into his own, felt her lips kiss his palm. Carefully, he reached up blindly until he cupped Belle's cheek, so soft and warm beneath his fingers.

"I love you," he heard her say, her voice clearer through the gap in the door.

"I love you, too," he replied wholeheartedly. One more kiss to his fingers and she released his hand. He reluctantly pulled back, but did not close the door.

"I'll see you soon, then," she said and Adam was pleased to hear a more merry tone in her voice. "Don't peek, now."

"I won't," he promised and listened to the rustle of her skirts as she made her way back down the hall. When the sound had disappeared, he waited another five full minutes before daring to venture forwards at last.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle met her father in a small antechamber beside the chapel doors where they might have a few minutes alone while the rest of the guests filed into their seats. She stood nervously alone in the chamber, twisting her fingers together until her father came in at last.

"Oh my. Belle, you're. . .you're so _beautiful_," her father exclaimed as he entered. He had come in to the room far enough for Mrs. Potts to close the door behind him with a warm smile in Belle's direction, but seemed to be unable to move any further.

"You look very handsome, Papa," she commented, amused by her father's reaction and equally taken aback by it. Her observation was true, though; her father wore a rich, midnight blue suit that was unlike anything Belle had ever seen him in and he looked proud wearing it.

Her father still seemed to be unable to say anything else to her, but moved forward at last and took hold of her hands. Belle could hardly withstand the emotion in her father's eyes; he had always been a loving, adoring father, but what Belle saw now was beyond anything she was accustomed to. There were tears in his eyes as he gazed at her with what Belle could see was a mixture of pride, love, excitement, and a little bit of sorrow as well.

"Your mother would be so proud of you," he said at last, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.

"I wish Maman was here," she confessed, feeling tears begin to well in her own eyes. Just for today, Belle would want to know that her mother was happy with Belle's decision. Belle wanted her Maman to see her off on this important journey, this new chapter in her life.

"I know she would be so happy," Papa assured her, his voice thick with emotion. "She wanted you to find someone who loved your soul as we do. I know it would have pleased her that you found Adam."

"Thank you, Papa," she said and embraced him, feeling the warmth of his love radiate into her. It meant so much that he should approve of Adam, and meant just as much that Maman might approve of him as well.

"Now," Papa said, pushing her gently away and sniffing into a handkerchief. "I think it's about time to start. Shall we get ready?" Belle nodded, suddenly unsure of her own ability to speak, and followed her father out of the antechamber and towards the closed chapel doors.

Belle couldn't stop shaking as she stepped up to the rather intimidating doors of the chapel. It was the first time she could recall shaking in such pure excitement, and it was making it rather difficult to stand. _Don't be silly. This is Adam; you've seen him nearly every day for months now. He is the one you love!_ she told herself. She tried to remember the conversation they had through the door of the West Wing just a few minutes ago. She could no longer keep at bay her worries that this all might be because of the enchantment and could do nothing but seek out Adam. She could tell he was nervous about this as well, as she thought he might be, but she was grateful for his words of encouragement. Still, her hands insisted on shaking, so she pictured herself sitting in the library with Adam, serenely reading a book to him as he listened. Picturing the two of them together like that calmed her and gave her the strength to step forward and place her hand in her father's arm.

His other hand came up to cover hers where it rested on his arm and Belle looked down to meet her father's eyes. She was unsurprised, yet shaken anew when she saw that there were tears in his eyes and a warm smile on his lips. She felt tears well in her own eyes and released her father's arm only to gently pull him into a tight embrace. "Oh, Papa," she started, but couldn't manage anything else through her emotion-filled throat. She held onto her father for an extra moment until she was able to banish her own tears. It wouldn't do for a bride to cry her way down the aisle, though they'd be tears of nothing less than pure joy. When she straightened up, she had full control of herself again and was eager to make her way down to Adam. Her father smiled and placed her hand back on his arm and together they faced the doors.

Two footmen Belle knew well stood before them, Jasper and Victor, and made ready to open the doors. Belle looked down at her bouquet, the sight of the rose in its center giving her a tiny bit of strength for her to hold on to. She took one last steadying breath, unconsciously tightening her grip on her father's arm as the doors that separated her from Adam finally began to open.


	40. Chapter 40

_There's been some confusion because I posted two chapters at once, so make sure you read chapter 39 before this one! Sorry about that!_

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam turned when he heard the doors to the chapel open and felt his heart leap at the sight that met his eyes. Belle was there at last, a shimmering vision as she seemed to almost glide towards him, her beautiful face delicately framed in a long veil that draped across her bare shoulders and swept along behind her. His heart, which had been beating too quickly, suddenly stopped as he realized that this beautiful, wonderful woman had actually agreed to marry him. He was going to be able to spend his life with her, to have adventures and grow old with her. Six months ago he had been convinced he would remain a Beast till the end of his days, alone in his self-made prison. But now he found himself almost grateful for the Enchantress' curse, for it meant that Belle was there, coming to stand beside him now.

Belle drew level with him, met his gaze, and smiled that heartbreakingly beautiful smile of hers, the smile he had grown to love and recognize as a happiness just for him. He recalled the first time she had smiled at him so; Belle had shown him how to feed the birds hopping about in the snow, taking his paw and leaning on him for balance. It was the first moment Adam was aware of that Belle was truly content with his company, that she was happy to be with him. That same smile greeted him now as Maurice placed Belle's hands in his own.

Adam had the presence of mind enough to bow in gratitude to Maurice, wordlessly thanking him for allowing all of this to occur. Maurice could have easily kept his daughter from marrying the creature who had imprisoned them (well, perhaps not so easily considering Belle's willful mind) but instead Maurice decided to forgive Adam and allow him a happiness Adam still wasn't sure he entirely deserved.

He turned back to his bride, his Belle, and vaguely he was aware that the ceremony began. The Archbishop began speaking, but Adam could not tear his gaze away from Belle's soft brown eyes. She took his hands, halting their trembling, and Adam restrained the impulse to pull her into a kiss. It was not the time to, not yet.

They had decided to speak their own words at the wedding, despite the fact the Archbishop forbade it. The stuffy old man insisted that tradition called for a certain order and it would not do to disrupt that. So they had decided, though Adam felt a bit queasy at the idea, of whispering their words to each other instead while the Archbishop droned on with words that had little to do with them.

"I love you, Belle" Adam started nervously when the Archbishop had found his stride amongst the meaningless words of tradition. Adam kept his voice low so as not to offend the Archbishop but not so quiet that Belle couldn't hear. He could feel his face begin to turn red at the words he intended to speak, but it helped knowing only Belle could hear him and his courage strengthened. "You saved me from a fate worse than death. You showed me the beauty in the world, the beauty in a soul as far gone as my own had been. You're always so patient with me, helping me to understand and to learn more than I had ever cared to before. You opened up a new world for me, Belle. And, best of all, you taught me how to love. You are a miracle. I'm so grateful for every day I get to see you and be reminded of the goodness in you and of the soul you found in me. I am honored to stand beside you now, to walk through life with you, to join you in your adventures. Thank you, my love, for daring to tame the Beast. Thank you for finding a way to love me."

He tucked that same stray piece of hair off Belle's forehead as he finished speaking and noticed that there were tears in her eyes. For half a moment, Adam was worried he said something wrong and his small courage crashed into anxiety, but her shining smile assured him that the tears were of joy. Adam smiled in return and again restrained the urge to kiss his beloved, settling on gently squeezing her fingers.

Belle opened her mouth to speak, but the Archbishop then decided to speak a little more loudly than he had been, causing Belle to pause and look at him seemingly attentively for a few moments. Adam knew the Archbishop could not be pleased that two people he was trying to marry were not paying attention, but truly Adam did not understand how a series of speeches were to represent his relationship to Belle better than their own words. After a few moments, though, the Archbishop continued at his normal volume and Belle returned her gaze to Adam. He felt her fingers tighten around his and he smiled, understanding that she was as nervous as he was. But now he had spoken his heart, all of it completely, leaving it open before Belle and ready to hear what she might now say to him.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle knew that the aisle she had to walk down was rather long; she wasn't sure that she would be able to endure having everyone's eyes on her for the time it took her to make her way down it, but when the doors at last opened, the crowds standing on either side of her did not matter. All she chose to see was the man in a handsome pale blue coat standing at the end of the aisle, gazing at her with a wide smile as she took steady steps towards him.

Belle stood at last beside Adam, her heart nearly bursting with love for this man, this beautiful, gentle, courageous man who found his way into her heart. Adam beamed down at her and in his eyes she could see the incredible love she never thought she would find.

Then Adam began to speak, and Belle's eyes filled with tears, blurring Adam's image but not the beautiful words he spoke. It was not the first time he thanked her for breaking the enchantment, not the first time he insisted she had found a soul where he was convinced there had been none, but the raw, open sincerity of his words and the emotion behind them made the words new.

But now it was her turn to speak and Belle wasn't entirely sure she had the courage to open her heart as Adam had to her. He had been growing in confidence since he regained his humanity and his words were proof of how far he had come. But she wasn't sure that she would be able to match his confidence. Fortunately, the Archbishop began to speak louder, interrupting her and clearly upset that they should not be paying attention to him. But this day was not about him, and his interruption did nothing but give her a moment to collect herself.

"I've never met anyone like you," she began surprisingly steadily, finding her courage in the familiar, gentle pool of Adam's gaze. "You are such a surprising person; the moment you allowed that temper of yours to fade," she continued with humor in her voice at the recollection of the Beast's flaring temper, "I could discover that underneath that anger was a gentle, dear soul. I never thought I would find love; really I never thought I would marry, since nearly everyone found me too odd. You were the first to see me for who I am, to encourage me to be myself. It was clear that you enjoyed life, or you were enjoying rediscovering it. That excitement and enthusiasm, and your gentleness and curiosity made me love you. You are my friend, my love, and I've never wanted anything as much as I want to spend my life with you."

Belle's heart skipped a beat as Adam's expression turned into one of love and longing, a look far too similar to the one he wore the day they had fed the birds together, the expression that sent her heart beating wildly and began the questions of their new relationship buzzing in her mind.

The Archbishop's voice broke their gaze once more, however, and this time it was for a good reason. The Archbishop's longwinded speech finally made its way to where Adam and Belle made their vows out loud through the traditional words the Archbishop insisted upon.

"Belle, I take you to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part," Adam said carefully and Belle noticed the smile he tried to suppress, making it harder for her to keep her own grin at bay.

"Adam, I take you to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part," she recited at the Archbishop's prompting. She preferred the vows she and Adam had devised. But then the rings were presented and she finally gave the traditional words the attention the Archbishop demanded. The rings were given to them, two simple silver bands that matched each other in every way but size.

Adam took her hand and met her gaze and Belle tried vainly to banish the tears that once more clouded her eyes. "With this ring, I thee wed," he said solemnly and gently pushed the silver band onto her finger. She returned the words and the gesture, never breaking his gaze.

A few more words from the Archbishop that Belle was too distracted to listen to, and then Adam was leaning down to her. She raised her hand to his cheek and their lips met. Her heart soared, knowing this was their first moment as husband and wife, their first act of a new life together.

* * *

Beast's POV

Adam had never known a sweeter kiss than the kiss he shared with his wife. Gently he cupped the back of her head to pull her closer, unwilling for the kiss to end just yet, enjoying far to much the sensation of holding close the woman he would spend the rest of his life with. Despite all they had been through, it still seemed impossible that Belle should truly be there, that she had become his wife and he her husband.

But of course the kiss had to end and Adam was forced to look away from his wife to make their way back down the aisle and towards the celebration that would take place first in the formal dining hall and then on into the ballroom. What he really wanted was to find somewhere to be alone with Belle, to talk to her and hold her, not continue to entertain the nobles who had crowded his castle. But he knew that was impossible, so he simply led the procession towards the dining hall with Belle on his arm, unable to stop beaming down at her. He was sure he looked like a fool simply grinning at her, but it was hard to look away.

The meal was more or less a blur for Adam; food was presented in front of him, toasts were made, and guests chattered, but it was all lost on him. A year ago, Adam would never had thought that he would be sitting beside his bride, human and overwhelmed with joy. Of course, a year ago Adam would never have believed himself capable of such emotion and probably would have laughed in the face of the person who told him so. Nevertheless, he was there, watching Belle chat with the people around her, occasionally smiling at him or taking his hand under the table. It was difficult to be able to talk to her with the noise of the dining hall, much as he yearned to, so he contented himself with filling his eyes with her. It wasn't until the meal was over and they moved into the ballroom that Adam was able to finally speak with his bride.

"Are you ready?" she asked and Adam felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"For what?"

"Our first dance, of course," she replied with a gentle smile and only then did Adam realize that she had led him to the center of the ballroom and that her long veil had been removed, by whom Adam could not guess. He glanced around quickly, enough to realize that their guests were gathered around the floor looking at them expectantly. Feeling as nervous as he had when Belle first asked him to dance, Adam took Belle's hand in his own and wrapped his other hand around her waist. But as they begun to dance, Adam was able to forget the eyes watching them and focused only on the woman in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" Belle asked as he guided them around the floor to the orchestra's music.

"Like I'm dreaming," he replied honestly. "Are you sure this is all real?"

"Should I pinch you to prove it?" Belle teased, causing him to chuckle.

"You look so beautiful," he said after a moment and grinned as a blush crept into Belle's cheeks. "Are you happy?"

Belle's hand came up from his shoulder to run her fingers along his jaw. "More than I imagined possible. Truly." Adam grinned and spun her across the floor, enjoying greatly the joy in his beloved's eyes and her laughter as he bid her to twirl out at arm's length then return to him once more.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle felt dizzy as she danced with her new husband, a dizziness which had little to do with the circles he spun them in. It was amazing to her that she should be in the arms of a husband whom would make her happy all of her days, whom she wanted nothing more than to make happy in return.

She would be wonderfully glad to have spent the entire night in Adam's arms, but alas the dance had to end and she was brought back to the present by the subdued applause from the nobles that surrounded them. She glanced around at the unfamiliar faces, nodding and smiling at them politely before being escorted off the floor to open it up for their guests. Fortunately, not all the guests were strangers. As Belle and Adam reached the edge of the dance floor, Mrs. Potts and her father came up to them.

"Congratulations, my dears!" Mrs. Potts exclaimed emotionally and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

"Now, now, my dear you mustn't cry," Maurice said consolingly to Mrs. Potts. "They'll think you're not happy for them!"

"You're one to talk, Maurice," she scolded and batted at him with her handkerchief. "You hardly stopped crying through the entire ceremony!" Maurice blushed, Adam laughed, and Belle beamed, overjoyed that her father and Mrs. Potts were getting along so well.

"When you've got a minute," Maurice said, clearly trying to change the subject. "I'd like to borrow you and my new son-in-law."

"Of course, Papa. We should greet our guests first, though," she said, wondering what her father could want them for that would take them away from the throng.

"All right," he agreed. "Find us when you're ready. But first, I'd like a dance with the bride if her husband will allow it." Maurice said and Belle giggled as Adam gestured his unneeded consent.

"You've done so well, my dear," Papa said as they began to waltz around the floor. It had been a long time since Belle had danced with her father; it must have been before they had left the city, for she was much shorter then and remembered having to reach up to her father's shoulder. But the steps were familiar and it was comfortable to dance with him again. "I knew you would find your adventures at last."

"I'm glad you did. I started to doubt it for a little while there," she confessed.

"It did look pretty bleak, didn't it?" he chuckled. "But it all worked out in the end."

"I'm so glad you gave Adam a chance, Papa. I know it couldn't have been easy for you."

"You've always had good judge of character. And when you came back to me, there was something so different about you I knew something had to have changed. Besides, when I met him for myself the second time, he was the perfect gentleman."

"And you're happy being here, Papa? You're comfortable living here?" Belle had asked him this several times before, and always the answer had been positive, but it didn't hurt to ask once more.

"My dear, I haven't been so happy since you're mother was alive."

"I'm think that Mrs. . . . ah, _Maggie's_ got something to do with that," she pressed and smiled as her father blushed.

"Yes, well, she's a remarkable woman. You don't think it's wrong to be seeking her company, do you? You don't mind, I mean?"

"Why would I?" she replied quickly. "She seems to be very happy when she's with you, and I haven't seen you smile so much since Maman was with us. I think you deserve some happiness, Papa, and I couldn't be more glad that you've found it with Maggie."

"Thank you, Belle. Now, enough about me. Tell me when I can get some grandchildren."

"_Papa_," Belle sighed.

"What? I'm not getting any younger, you know," he replied with a grin.

"You'll get your grandchildren when Adam and I are ready, Papa. Let us learn how to be married to each other for a little while first."

"Of course, of course," Papa said. "I can't believe my girl is married. And to a Prince, of all things. You're really living in one of your fairy tales."

"I really am," she agreed and glanced over her father's head to catch Adam's eye.

"Go back to your husband now," Papa said as the dance ended. "And remember to find me and Maggie when you can get away."

"Of course, Papa," she agreed and bent to kiss her father's cheek before they broke away, each to seek their own loves.

* * *

She and Adam were separated for a time as they made their way through the crowds to greet their guests. She managed to catch a glimpse of him through the glittering crowd chatting with Lumiere before he moved on to talk with one of their guests. Belle herself ran into Henry and wife and spent several pleasant minutes chatting with them. They were very kind, telling her how beautiful she was, how wonderful the ceremony was, and how happy they were for she and Adam.

A little deeper into the crowd, Belle noticed Nicole in a lovely maroon gown standing nearby one of the columns in the ballroom. From where Belle stood, it seemed as though Nicole was alone and looking rather lonely and Belle decided she should go over and keep the girl company. As she made her way over, however, Belle was able to see Nicole at a new angle and noticed that she was standing beside a tall, rather gangly blond man.

Belle was rather astonished to see how shyly Nicole was looking up at the man's face and how the man seemed to be blushing. She realized with a start that the man she stood beside was the son of a baron, several classes below her current rank. No wonder her father had been pushing Nicole to steal Adam away; he was unhappy that his daughter fancied a man he believed to be beneath her station. Belle grinned and hoped things would work out between Nicole and this young baron.

She caught up to Adam and turned him in the direction of her new discovery.

"How about that," Adam said in clear astonishment. "What wonders have you worked this time?"

"It wasn't me," she insisted. "All I did was talk to her. It seems she knew what she wanted all along, her father just didn't want her to have it."

"Fathers can be rather difficult. You're very lucky that you have Maurice."

"Oh, Papa! He wanted us to meet him, remember?"

"Let's go now. They won't miss us," Adam said and took her hand, weaving amongst the people to find Maurice and Mrs. Potts talking at the edge of the crowd. They had almost reached them, but someone caught up to them first.

"Well, my boy!" Gustave came up behind them, clapping Adam on the shoulder and halting their progress. "You've done it at last! You finally married this marvelous, wonderful woman!" Gustave kissed Belle's hand. "I'm so proud of you both!"

"Thank you, Uncle," Adam said, sounding slightly overwhelmed.

"I'll be expecting little heirs running about soon now," Gustave added and Belle watched as Adam's face grew red and his mouth open and close, trying to respond but seemingly having no voice. Belle smiled, her heart growing warm at the idea of having children with Adam, and equally as terrified by the idea as Adam seemed to be.

"I don't think I'm ready to share Adam just yet, Gustave," Belle said, coming to Adam's rescue. "I'd like to be selfish for a little while longer, if you don't mind."

"As you say, my dear," Gustave consented with a nod and left them to resume their path towards Belle's father.

"Breathe, Adam," Belle reminded her husband merrily. Adam glanced at her and smiled, but she could still see paralyzing fear in his eyes. "We don't need to worry about that for a long time, all right?" Adam nodded and seemed to relax a bit more, but he still seemed rather in a daze.

"There you are!" her Papa exclaimed as she and Adam approached them. "Shall we go?"

"Where are you taking us, Papa?" Belle asked as she followed her father and Mrs. Potts out of the ballroom, linked arm in arm with a still-stunned Adam.

"You'll see," he said, hardly turning back to answer. Belle glanced at Adam who shrugged, clearly as clueless as she was, and merely followed them up the stairs and towards Belle's room. Well, her old room; tonight and ever more she would be staying in the West Wing with Adam.

"Oh, Papa," Belle breathed as her father opened the door. In the room nearly empty after Belle had her things moved to the West Wing, Belle's eyes were immediately directed to a beautiful wooden chest standing proudly the center of the floor. She bent over it, careful not to snag her dress, and ran her hands along its intricately carved surface in amazement.

* * *

Beast's POV

Belle seemed overjoyed at the presentation of the box. Yes, it was beautiful, but it clearly had a significance he didn't understand.

"What is it?" he whispered to Mrs. Potts.

"It's a hope chest," she replied.

"A what?"

"A hope chest," Maurice repeated. "A bride is supposed to present one to her husband when they get married as part of her dowry. Of course, we have no dowry for you as you know, but I thought now I could make Belle a hope chest she could pass down."

Adam inwardly sighed as again the subject of children came up with the idea of passing down this hope chest to the daughters he might have with Belle. He and Belle never had a serious conversation about having children together, but now he wished they had. Of course he wanted children, but not yet, not so soon. Belle seemed happy to wait as well, but whether it was for his sake or hers he couldn't be sure.

"Papa this is beautiful," Belle said, standing to embrace her father. "Thank you so much."

"It's about time you had one. I'm just sorry I couldn't give you a full one."  
"Don't be silly, Papa. I love it, and Adam and I can fill it ourselves. Right?" she turned to Adam and he smiled and nodded. She seemed so happy, how could he deny her anything?

"Maggie helped. The lining inside the lid is her work," Maurice said, the pride in his voice evident as Maurice took hold of Mrs. Potts' hand. Belle went back and opened the lid to praise Mrs. Potts' work and now Adam joined her. The lining was beautiful, but Adam was more interested in the beautiful carvings on the outside of the chest. He had never seen such delicate work; it must have taken Maurice weeks to complete.

"It's beautiful," he said in gratitude to Maurice and Mrs. Potts.

"Let's leave them alone, Maurice," Mrs. Potts suggested, taking Maurice's arm. "Don't ignore your guests, now," she added as she led Belle's father away. Belle came up and took hold of Adam's arm, watching them go.

"They're lovely together, don't you think?" Belle asked wistfully and Adam felt her head come to rest against his arm. Rather than verbally responding to the question that really needed no answer, Adam turned to kiss the top of Belle's head, being careful not to disturb her delicate tiara.

"Come, I have a gift for you, too," Adam said, deciding that while they had escaped from the crowds downstairs.

"Wait, I do too!" she said, pulling out of his hand to go to her vanity. She pulled a package she couldn't quite see out of its drawer and hid it behind her skirts.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to peek around to see.

"Are you sure you want it now?" she asked. "It isn't much."

"Please?" he said, taking hold of her bare shoulders gently and sliding down her arms, pretending that he would take the gift from her hands. She grinned and jumped out of his reach.

"All right, all right. Here," she said and held out the object she had been hiding.

It was a handsome leather bound book, the leather pressed on the edges of the cover with intricate designs. He opened the book, expecting another story like the one she had given him at Christmas, but to his surprise the pages were blank. He looked up at Belle, confused.

"I thought this could be _our_ book," she explained. "We have hundreds of books with other stories in them, I thought it was time there was one with _our_ stories. We can put our adventures in here."

"I love it," he said honestly and pulled her close to him to kiss her. "I can't wait to start it. Do you think it will end happily ever after like your favorite tales do?"

"We'll have to wait and find out," she replied with a gentle smile and pulled him back into the kiss. "Now, you said you had something for me?"

"I suppose I did," he grinned. "Come with me." He took her hand and led her out of the room and towards the West Wing to a room opposite the doors that led to his rooms. Shaking with what he was intending to do for Belle, he opened the doors to reveal a large, comfortable room with little inside except for a few chairs and a grand piano, the same piano which he attempted and failed to play for Belle weeks ago.

"Adam?" he heard Belle ask as she entered the room.

"I know you enjoyed what I played before," he started, hearing in her voice the apprehension at being presented once more with the piano that marked a low point in their history together. "I thought, I thought I might try again for you."

"Adam, I never expected you to force yourself to do that," Belle protested. "You don't need to. . ."

"I'd like to," he interrupted. "I mean, if I was right in thinking that you. . .you enjoyed what I tried to do last time." Wordlessly, Belle took a seat in the chair nearest the piano, folded her hands in her lap, and looked at him expectantly. Adam couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him and he sat on the piano's bench to prepare himself to once more play for Belle.

* * *

Belle's POV

Belle all but held her breath as Adam raised his hands to the piano's keys. The last time he had played for her, it had caused him terrible pain to do so, a pain she could not fully understand. She was nervous this session might end the same way the first one did, with Adam becoming inexplicably ashamed of himself, but she believed that Adam had come so far since then. The first time, he had been struggling to regain his humanity while trapped within the Beast's form, torturing himself by trying to please her. Perhaps this time would be different.

But Belle's worry and concern faded as Adam began to play, once more feeling the sensation of floating amongst the notes he created. It was a different song than the first, one Belle was not familiar with. But it was a beautiful song, more lovely than Belle thought possible. It was amazing to her that anyone had such beauty in their soul, and even more amazing that Adam had found a way of expressing that beauty. The song lasted several minutes, carrying Belle to the stars once more and gently setting her back into her chair as it ended. As the last notes faded, Belle sighed, allowing a tear to roll down her cheek.

"Belle?" she heard Adam's voice call her name and she opened her eyes. "Are you all right?"

"Adam, that was so beautiful," she said. "Thank you for that. Where did you learn that song?"

Adam sat on the chair next to her, so close she could feel his warm breath, and wiped her tear away. "I didn't. I created it."

"Did you really?"

"Yes, I did," he replied merrily and Belle got the impression he was laughing at her. "I hoped you would like it."

"It was amazing!" she exclaimed. "Would you play it again for me?"

"Don't you think we should go back downstairs?" he said, tucking a stray piece of hair from her face.

"Must we? I'd really rather be with you here," she took his hand from her hair and held it between her own. She had no ambition to return to the nobles, not when she had the option to stay with Adam and the beautiful music he created for her.

"So would I. But it's only another few hours. And in a few days we'll go traveling together. You'll be tired of me in no time."

"Never," she said and leaned forward to kiss him. "But I suppose you're right, we should go back downstairs."

They returned downstairs, saw that their guests were happy, and even managed to dance a few more times together before it grew late and the guests began to leave. They had all come to say goodbye to her and Adam, even Nicole, who seemed much happier than when she and Belle last spoke. Belle suspected that her improved mood had much to do with the baron's son she had been standing beside.

Though it was late, her father and Mrs. Potts were still making their slow way around the dance floor, so Adam led Belle out the ballroom doors and into the night air.

"It's getting so warm out now," Adam commented as they stepped out onto the balcony. Belle nodded but said nothing. "Do you know," Adam continued, "That when I first brought you out here, the first night we danced together, I had planned to tell you that I loved you?"

Belle paused; no she _hadn't_ known that. Looking back, remembering how nervous the Beast had been that night, it seemed obvious to her now. But what would she have replied had he said those words to her then? She herself had been nervous and fidgety, though never more content than she was in the Beast's presence that night.

"I didn't know that," she replied simply.

"I was running out of time to tell you because of. . .well, you know. I thought that if I couldn't tell you then, I might not ever, but I was so scared to. In a way, I'm glad I couldn't tell you then. I don't think it was the right time, though I wanted it very much to be," Adam looked up at the stars as he spoke and Belle looked at him, relieved he felt the same way.

"I would've preferred that we didn't have to go through all that we did later that night, though," Belle added, flinching as she pictured for the thousandth time Gaston stabbing her Beast, and her holding the Beast in her arms as he died. Adam's arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her close to him.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," he said. "How did you put it once: You're stuck with me now." Belle grinned and raised her face to be kissed.

"That's right," she said once her lips were free. "I'm all yours."

"And I'm yours, forever and always," he replied.

"Forever and always," she repeated, adoring the implication of those words. Their entire future was ahead of them, a life together full of adventures, and that was better than anything she had ever dreamed of.

* * *

_Well, there it is! I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Because I really did love being able to dive into the world of Belle and Adam, to deepen and continue their already beautiful story. Thank you for reading, and thank you for your reviews! This might sound a bit corny (after this story you should really expect that of me already) but I am so very glad so many people seem to enjoy this story!_

_Keep an eye out for my next fan fiction which will be a prequel to this one, telling the first half of Belle and Adam's story, entitled 'Much More Than Planned' and currently underway!  
_


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